


Lost Dreams

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 83,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6983452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>15 years ago a prince was kidnapped. Now, two kingdoms are on the verge of war. A soldier searches for honor, a wandering Sentinel dreams of the land he lost, and a young rebel fights for revenge. AU, fantasy.</p>
<p>Officially Abandoned.</p>
<p>*moved from ff.net. Originally posted October 2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: **Lost Dreams**  
Category: Anime/Manga » Gundam Wing/AC  
Author: Clara Barton  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Adventure/Fantasy  
Published: 10-12-11, Updated: 03-02-16  
Chapters: 16, Words: 85,510

* * *

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: I promise this was inspired by Tangled/Rapunzel…seriously, if you squint really, really hard you'll see what I mean. No, this isn't happy or filled with song. Or happy. But it was _going_ to be…until I started to write it. There are also blatant references to Lord of the Rings and a few other fantasy-genre staples.

A/N #2: So, this is me, which means that Trowa and Duo are going to be involved. There will be more pairings, but I'd really rather let them develop than paste them all over this.

A/N #3: The POV will switch between characters – likely _mostly_ between Heero, Duo, and Trowa.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter One

Trowa didn't believe in omens, but when the hot, cloudless morning turned into a dark, churning storm only two hours after the caravan set out he had a bad feeling.

These forests were no man's lands – the roads that cut through the ancient trees were plagued with bandits and murders. Yet they were the quickest route for merchants to bring their goods from the kingdom of Thera to her neighboring, enemy kingdom of Mysia.

It had been nearly a century since the two lands had had peace between them, and in that time the unclaimed forests had become a haven for outlaws from both kingdoms. So dangerous were the roads that most merchant caravans hired armed escorts and counted themselves lucky to have half their merchandise arrive safely.

The Sentinels, however, were anything but mere armed escorts. They knew these lands like a favorite memory, and made their life's work protecting those who traveled through the unprotected forest.

The band that Trowa led were experienced men, all older than him, and all just as irritated as he to be reduced to nurse-maiding fat merchants as they trundled along in their overflowing wagons.

The rain cut across the road in a diagonal wall of gray, making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. It was ridiculous to think that a few hours ago it had been hot, without a cloud in the sky and no breeze to speak of. Now it felt as though the world were ending in a maelstrom of thunder, lightning, and freezing rain.

"Should've stopped when this shit started," Ralph shouted over the rain.

Trowa nodded in agreement. He hadn't been surprised when the fat merchants had wanted to keep going – of _course_ they would choose the most idiotic plan of action – but he was disappointed.

"Why even hire us if they don't listen?" Ralph continued, voicing Trowa's own thoughts.

"They like the illusion of our protection more than our actual protection," Trowa informed him. "And they like to pass along the price hike."

Ralph sneered.

"Man only needs a horse, his weapons, and a blanket to sleep on. All these luxury goods – makes you soft."

Trowa spared him an amused look, though it was doubtful Ralph could see his expression with the shadow cast by his hood.

"I imagine you'd need some food and clothes as well," he pointed out.

Ralph looked momentarily embarrassed, but then he laughed.

"Food – of course, but clothes? Bah! We should go about as the gods intended and bare our flesh for all the world!"

Trowa chuckled, but his amusement was cut short when he saw movement to their left.

He whistled the high, sharp whistle of the lake sparrow – it was a signal to all the Sentinels to beware.

Ralph allowed Trowa's horse to pull away and take point, and Trowa tried to see into the shadowed forest to the sides of the road. He was positive that –

There was a flash of muddy green moving amongst the dark brown of the trees and underbrush.

He whistled again, and without even looking he knew that the others had discreetly drawn their weapons and moved to circle the merchants wagons.

Trowa drew his bow and sent an arrow whizzing towards the tree he had last spotted the green beside. No sooner had the arrow buried itself in the tall oak then a cry of anger arose from the woods. It was echoed by at least a dozen voices, and a moment later a flood of men rushed from the trees.

He managed to fell two of them before the first of the men reached his horse, and then he drew his sword to keep them away. He hacked at the unorganized swarm, trying to injure rather than kill. He didn't have much value for the lives of highwaymen, but he _did_ value information.

Eventually, as the grunts and cries of men in battle started to move past him, he dismounted and tried to sandwhich the remaining attackers between himself and the other Sentinels.

He saw Ralph, still astride his horse, shooting arrow after arrow into the attackers, his motions smooth and unhurried, his aim deadly.

Just as Ralph notched his next arrow Trowa saw one of the attackers draw back his arm.

"Ralph!"

Instinctively the other man reacted to Trowa's voice and threw himself from his horse. A moment later a throwing knife embedded itself in the neck of the tall animal, and Trowa looked for the man who had thrown it.

It was that same flash of muddy green, and Trowa sighted along his own bow and loosed an arrow on the bastard as he ran down the line of wagons. The arrow caught him squarely in the back, and Trowa felt a distant satisfaction. The man was worth nothing compared to the loss of Ralph's horse, but at least he had retribution.

"He's getting away!" Came the sudden shout.

Trowa looked beyond the men he and Ralph were fighting to see that one of the wagons was careening towards him, the horses driven at a furious pace by a man dressed in solid black.

He barely managed to avoid being run over by the wagon, but it took him only a moment to remount Heavyarms and charge after the wagon.

As he urged the horse on he marveled at the sheer idiotic courage of whoever had hijacked the wagon. The lumbering vehicles certainly didn't move fast – although at present he had to revise that opinion. He had never seen a merchant's wagon move so fast, and Heavyarms was struggling to catch up with the team of four horses drawing the wagon.

Trowa managed to pull close enough to the wagon that he was able to leap from Heavyarms back and into the rear of the wagon, crashing through the canvas and landing awkwardly on the goods within in.

He was immediately struck with the fragrant smell of the wagon – that of honey and lavender – and he realized that the goods were all medicinal. Including the ceramic jars of ointment he had broken when he landed, shards of which were currently embedded into his left shoulder and back.

It looked as though the driver hadn't noticed the shift in weight from Trowa's boarding. From the breakneck pace he was setting and the muddy road, Trowa doubted he would have been able to detect it if an army had boarded.

Still, he was cautious as he drew his dagger and made him way to the wagon tongue. He climbed up to the box and was about to stab the driver when the man sent the wagon careening off the road and Trowa was thrown from his feet back into the wagon.

The driver looked back, and Trowa's eyes met the determined, hard violet stare of the man. So he _had_ noticed him boarding.

Trowa had to dive to the side to avoid the throwing dagger immediately sent his way. It still came close enough to nick his cheek, and he narrowed his eyes in determination.

This man was clearly no idiot, and had no intentions of dying easily.

He was impressed that the driver was keeping one eye on the road while still looking back at Trowa, and even more impressed when he dodged the jar of ointment thrown at his head.

His admiration quickly gave way to irritation when his next few attempts were also dodged. Deciding that this was getting him nowhere, Trowa used the forward momentum of the wagon to leap forward until he was even with the driver once again.

The move seemed to shock the other man, and Trowa was able to land a solid punch to his face before he could react.

He drew his sword again even as the driver drew a wicked looking curved dagger.

Trowa had his sword at the man's neck first, however, and pressed hard enough for the blade to sink into the alabaster flesh.

"Stop the wagon!" Trowa shouted to him over the roar of the rain and pounding of the horses' hooves.

"Go to hell!" Was the response and the driver twisted away. Trowa's knife cut into his neck deeper than he had intended it to, but the driver still rolled away and off the box.

Trowa grabbed the reins before they could fall and tried to lead the team to a halt while looking over his shoulder to see where the bandit had landed, and if he still lived.

Unbelievably, he saw the man stagger to his feet.

Heavyarms had been following behind the wagon, well trained and loathe to abandon Trowa, but she slowed as she approached the man on the ground.

Trowa managed to bring the team of horses to a halt just as the man swung up into Heavyarms saddle and started to turn her towards the forest.

He whistled sharply, and the horse instantly obeyed his command, dashing forward at such a pace that the bandit was forced to hang on for dear life.

She came to a stop beside the wagon, and Trowa jumped down and approached them.

"I've no desire to kill you, but my patience isn't infinite," Trowa assured the bandit.

He might as well have remained silent. The man slid off Heavyarms back and took off for the trees, making it only a few feet before Trowa tackled him.

"Get off me!"

There was a flash of silver and Trowa barely managed to fend off the blow from the man's curved dagger.

Trowa managed to knock the dagger out of his grip, but was momentarily stunned when the man picked up a rock and slammed it against the side of his face.

Dazed, his grip loosened just enough that the man was able to roll away, regain his feet, and run for the forest.

Trowa shook himself and staggered to his feet. He gave chase and caught up quickly with the other man – who was clearly injured and near the end of his stamina.

He slammed him against an oak tree, taking fierce pleasure in the hiss of pain he released when his skull cracked against the solid bark.

For good measure he slammed him against it twice more, until the other man started to slump over.

Suspecting it for a trick, Trowa eased his grip just enough to test the weight of the other man's body. Sure enough, the moment he did so the man tried to bolt.

Trowa threw him to the ground and straddled his back.

"Stay still!" He ordered when the man started to struggle. His frustration must have been clear, because the other man instantly stopped moving.

Trowa dug a length of rope from his waist pouch and used it to bind the man's hands together, tightening the knot enough that the rope cut into his wrists.

Satisfied that he wouldn't be going anywhere fast or fighting back, Trowa eased off of him and rolled him onto his back.

He pulled away the man's hood, the those angry violet eyes again met his gaze. They were framed by long brown bangs, plastered against the pale skin of the man's face from the rain. Cuts decorated the man's face and a bruise was already starting to form from where Trowa had first tackled him to the ground and his face had hit the hard earth.

He didn't look older than sixteen, and Trowa was amazed that such a young boy had given him such a fight.

"What's your name?"

The boy's response was to spit in Trowa's face. He wiped it off and jerked the boy to his feet.

"Just kill me already!" The boy shouted when Trowa started to push him back towards the road.

Trowa snorted.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have done it BEFORE rolling around in the mud with you. Now it's not worth the effort."

"Hell of a lot more effort to keep me alive and get me to a judge," the boy muttered.

"Who said anything about taking you to a judge? Your band injured some of my men and killed at least one horse. There's justice to be served _here_ before we take you before any civilian."

"I didn't kill anyone – and I sure as hell didn't hurt any of your horses," the boy protested.

"We'll see," Trowa responded.

When they made it back to the road Heavyarms was waiting patiently for them. Trowa threw the boy over the saddle and used another length of rope to tie him to it, smirking at the rash of protests and curses from him.

Confident that he wouldn't be able to escape again, Trowa climbed back aboard the wagon and turned it around to rejoin the caravan. He kept his pace slow, and Heavyarms fell into step beside him.

"Most of the wagons were carrying valuable merchandise," Trowa called out to the boy.

"This wagon looked good to me," the boy argued.

"This wagon was in the middle of the caravan, right behind the one filled with jewelry – the most heavily guarded wagon in the caravan."

The boy was silent.

"Either you got the wrong wagon, or you need medicine, " Trowa continued.

"Maybe we wanted to sell the damn bandages," the boy said.

Before Trowa could respond to that blatant lie they reached the rest of the caravan. The fighting was clearly over, but he caught sight of several Sentinels arguing with the merchants, several bandits kneeling between them.

Trowa abandoned the wagon.

"What's going on?" He demanded as he approached.

Ralph looked up at him with relief, but the leader of the merchants, the fattest one by Trowa's reckoning, glared at him.

"These men should be executed!" He cried and pointed a fat finger at the half dozen bloody and bruised prisoners.

Trowa looked at Ralph. The Sentinel shrugged.

"We let most of them go, but these were the ones who tried to loot the food wagon."

Trowa scowled. Bandits who only tried to steal food and medicine? Clearly they weren't the typical highwaymen who plagued these roads.

"Release them," he instructed.

His men moved to cut the bonds of the prisoners.

"Stop! No!"

To their credit, his men ignored the merchant and continued to free the bandits.

"We're paying you to protect us!" The merchant shouted.

"And so we have. All of your wagons and goods are intact." He mentally subtracted the damage done to the ointment jars in the wagon he had returned.

"But these bandits –"

"Did no real damage. We aren't butchers."

"Argh!" With a cry of rage the merchant charged forward and before anyone could react he plunged a gold dagger into the throat of one of the bandits.

There was a shout of rage from behind Trowa, no doubt from the boy still tied to Heavyarms.

Trowa felt his own rage grow when he noticed how young the bandit was – even younger than the one Trowa had captured – and his blue eyes were wide and filled with fear as his life drained out of him.

Ralph disarmed the merchant and shoved him away from the other bandits, who were all frozen in fear and anger.

"Gather the men," Trowa quietly instructed Ralph.

"What? We're paying you to escort us to Mysia!"

"Keep your money," Trowa spat at him, "and take your chances. We'll have no one say we protected the likes of _you_." He looked past the merchant to Ralph again. "Take enough horses to replace those we lost. Get the wounded ready to move. We leave in half an hour."

Ralph and most of the Sentinels moved to start unhitching one or two horses from each wagon team, and Trowa freed the rest of the prisoners.

"Take him," he told them when they hesitated over the body of the boy.

They lifted him and carried him towards the forest with the kind of reverence that no common thug would have. Clearly these people had been driven to desperation to have attacked this caravan in the first place.

"What about me?" Trowa's captive demanded.

"You've got a judge to meet, remember?" Trowa answered without looking at him. He cornered the merchant.

"Tell whoever you want that we abandoned you on the road – but make sure to tell them that you slaughtered a child as well. We protect those who travel these roads because it's our duty, but we won't protect those who are worthless." He glared until the merchant swallowed hard and looked away.

Trowa sneered and turned to find his men. He whistled and Heavyarms trotted to his side.

"You can't do this to me!" The boy on her saddle whined.

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"I can do whatever I want to you," he muttered, no longer in any mood to be amused by his stubbornness.

"This is bullshit!" The boy said, but a swift glare from Trowa made him silent.

He was relieved to see that only three men had sustained serious injuries, and none of them were serious enough to keep the men from mounting a horse and riding out of here.

"If anyone feels we should stay, speak up," Trowa told them.

Every man was silent, their stony expressions telling Trowa all that he needed to know.

"We're returning to Kos," he informed them. He took in the looks of relief and exhaustion on some of their faces. "We'll make camp at nightfall and then ride on in the morning."

"Take point," he instructed Ralph.

His lieutenant nodded, but looked over Trowa's shoulder to the boy.

"What about him?"

Trowa rubbed at his cheek where the boy had cut him.

"Closest I've come to dying in a while," Trowa said, "and I want to know what the hell just happened."

Ralph nodded, accepting the explanation, but there was a speculative look in his eyes.

"We aren't keeping him," Trowa hastened to add.

Ralph frowned.

"He broke the law – by rights –"

"They tried to steal food and medicine! Do you really want to enslave a child because he was sick and hungry?" Trowa hissed.

"No," came Ralph's instant, angry response. "Of course not! But you said yourself that he nearly killed you!"

"Still not worth it," he insisted.

"But you –"

"Ralph. Leave it."

The other man shook his head, but turned and stormed off to mount one of the merchants' horses and rode to the front of the assembled Sentinels.

Trowa shook his head.

"I'm causing too much trouble," the boy said when Trowa returned to him. "You should just cut me loose."

Trowa actually laughed at that. He untied the boy from the saddle and then cut the ropes on his wrists.

"You aren't going anywhere until you tell me who you are and why you tried to steal the medicine," Trowa promised him.

He retied the boy's wrists in front of him and then shoved him back on Heavyarms so that he was sitting astride the horse. Trowa climbed up behind him and then set the horse off at a steady trot.

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Fine. I'll let Ralph give you to the women when we return to Kos."

"The women?"

"They're in charge of the slaves," Trowa explained.

"But you just said –"

"Tell me what I want to know."

But the boy was stubbornly silent.

* * *

When night fell they were only a day and a half's ride from Kos and the rain had ceased. Trowa was happy with the pace they had set.

He allowed Ralph to see to Heavyarms and the boy while he walked among the men and checked the injured.

No one had liked the merchants, and spirits seemed to be high among the men as they made plans for their return home.

Trowa wasn't thrilled that they had abandoned the caravan, but he refused to associate himself with such cruelty, and he knew that the other Sentinels felt the same.

After an hour spent among the others he returned to the spot where he had left Ralph and the boy.

Ralph had started a fire and seemed to be in the middle of a fight with the boy.

"It's ointment. It'll help your cuts heal," Ralph was saying as Trowa approached. His voice sounded strained.

"Probably poisoned," the boy muttered and kicked the small jar away.

Ralph opened his mouth, no doubt to berate the boy, but caught sight of Trowa. He arched an eyebrow, as if to ask why Trowa was even bothering.

"Thanks," Trowa said and jerked his head, signaling Ralph to go and prepare his own camp.

"I'd watch out for a knife in your gut tonight if I was you," Ralph cautioned him as he walked past.

Trowa stood and looked down at the boy for a moment. He looked completely miserable. In dim glow of the fire his face looked gaunt and his defiance seemed to be quickly evaporating.

With a sigh Trowa leaned down and picked up the ointment. He scooped some out onto his fingers and grabbed the boy's chin between his fingers, forcing him to look forward as he applied it to the cuts.

As soon as he was done he allowed the boy to jerk his head free.

"Raise your arms," Trowa instructed. He reached for the hem of the boy's tunic.

"Go to hell," the boy insisted and clenched his elbows to his sides.

"I know you've at least got bruises on your side," Trowa pointed out.

"I'll live," the boy sneered.

Trowa debated the merits of forcing the boy to cooperate and then shrugged. Instead he removed the boy's hood, unwrapping the wide black scarf he had wrapped around his head so that he could get a better view of his neck and the damage he had done. As he did so a long rope of hair fell forward.

Trowa fingered the end of the braid, amazed at the length and the silky quality of the hair.

The boy flinched away from Trowa's touch again, but Trowa merely glared until he subsided. He gently applied more ointment to the cut across his throat. It wasn't as deep as Trowa had feared, but it no doubt hurt whenever the boy spoke.

His ministrations complete, Trowa moved away from the boy and stripped off his own shirt. His shoulders protested at the movement, and he winced as he felt the fragments of the jars still buried in his side and shoulder. He sat down across from the boy and tried to clean them out.

"What's your name?" He asked the boy again.

"What's yours?"

"Trowa Barton."

"Who are you people?"

"We're Sentinels."

The boy's eyes widened.

"And you're in charge? A little young, aren't you?"

"Older than you," Trowa pointed out. "What are you – sixteen?"

"I'm nineteen!" The boy insisted angrily.

Trowa gave a dismissive shrug.

"I am."

"I don't really care," Trowa told him wearily.

He decided he had cleaned his wounds as much as possible and lathered on some of the ointment.

"Why won't you let me go?"

"Obviously I enjoy your company too much," Trowa muttered.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," the boy insisted again.

"Hungry?" Trowa dug into Heavyarms saddlebags for a few pieces of jerky and a loaf of bread.

The wide eyed expression on the boy's face was answer enough for Trowa, and when it was clear the boy wouldn't actually ask for anything, Trowa gave him two pieces of jerky and half the loaf.

He watched as the boy practically inhaled the food.

"The Mysian's don't take kindly to bandits," Trowa said as he ate his own meal at a much more sedate pace.

"'M not in Mysia," the boy said around a mouthful.

"I could take you there," Trowa pointed out.

The boy momentarily froze, and the look of panic on his face told Trowa that he had already been to that harsh kingdom and was not keen to return.

"You said you were going back to Kos – that's in the opposite direction."

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"You know a lot for an idiotic bandit."

"I'm not an idiot."

"You tried to hijack a Sentinel protected caravan."

"I didn't _know_ you were Sentinels, now did I?" The boy grumbled. "And it wasn't _my_ idea anyway. We needed the –" he seemed to realize what he was saying and abruptly snapped his mouth closed.

"You needed the medicine why?"

"To sell," the boy said with a shrug. "That's what bandits do, right?"

Trowa passed the boy his canteen and was amused by the suspicious sniff he gave it before drinking deeply. As he arched his head back Trowa caught sight of a dark shape on the back of the boy's neck.

He reached out and brushed his hair aside, ignoring the boy's instant flinch from his touch.

Trowa frowned as he recognized the tattoo on the back of his neck.

"You're an acolyte."

"I _was_. Or do you know any temples that go around stealing from merchants?" The boy sneered.

Trowa rubbed his thumb over the black eagle on the boy's neck. The boy shivered and leaned into the touch before abruptly jerking away.

"You didn't take orders," Trowa mused, glancing again at that long braid of hair.

"No shit," the boy muttered.

"What temple?"

Instead of answering the boy glared. Trowa sighed.

"Three of my men were injured today, and we lost an important job because _you_ decided to rob the wrong caravan. At least eight of your men are dead, _you_ are my captive, and you had to watch a boy die needlessly today. I suggest that you start answering my questions before I lose all patience with you?"

"Or what? You'll slit my throat?" The boy presented his neck. "You've already done half the work – and look, my hands are already tied. Should be a piece of cake, huh?"

Trowa scowled in disgust. He was angry over the boy's stubbornness, but he was also plagued with guilt after allowing the merchant to kill the young bandit earlier in the day.

"He shouldn't have died," Trowa muttered, more to himself than the boy.

"He was nothing to you."

"He was a _child_." Trowa's fists clenched in anger as he remembered other children who had been murdered by men as cold and cruel as the fat merchant.

The boy was silent for a long while.

"It was…decent of you to release them."

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"I didn't release you," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, you're a lonely bastard and clearly need s _omeone_ to talk to," the boy shrugged.

It seemed that the food had restored some of his energy and his attitude, while still caustic, at least revealed a sense of humor.

"There've been reports that the Mysians have driven most of the free workers out of the kingdom."

"Oh yeah?" The boy asked with a sneer.

Trowa nodded, ignoring the sarcasm.

"The Mysian slave trade is stronger than ever, and they're eliminating the need for workers who are paid. Of course, those free workers own land…"

"Owned," the boy bitterly corrected.

"Right, so the Mysian armies are driving them off their land and into the forests."

"We'll fight back," the boy assured him, his voice filled with anger and conviction.

Trowa nodded.

"Just as soon as you have the medicine to heal your sick and the food to feed the weak, right?"

The boy nodded.

Trowa sighed.

"The Mysians don't deal kindly with rebels."

"The Mysians don't deal kindly with _anyone_ ," the boy argued.

"Your little band was no match for my men. How do you think you'll fare against the Mysian armies?"

" _Your_ men are Sentinels. Aren't you supposed to be these invincible warriors guided by the gods?"

"No one believes that the gods guide us," Trowa said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "And if we were invincible why were you able to injure any of us?"

"Didn't kill you, did we?"

Trowa was about to argue the point further, but the low hoot of an owl echoed through the camp.

Activity stilled.

"What?" The boy asked.

"Someone's approaching our camp," Trowa explained the sentry call.

He pulled his shirt back on and picked up his sword.

"Someone who's going to attack?"

"Don't worry, you're surrounded by an invincible army guided by the gods," Trowa said drolly.

The boy glared.

The clamor of armor and the sound of voices at the south end of the camp drew Trowa's attention. It seemed that a Mysian contingent had decided to venture into the forests.

After a few moments of discussion between his sentries and the Mysians Trowa saw Ralph move away from the group and approach him.

"What do they want?" Trowa asked when the other man reached his fire.

Ralph glanced at the boy.

"Looking for someone who killed their Inquisitor," Ralph said to Trowa, his eyes still on the boy.

"Someone killed the Mysian Inquisitor?" Trowa was as shocked as he was impressed. The Mysians were fanatically anti-religious and had created an Inquisition to try and condemn any found guilty of worshipping the gods. The Inquisitor was the chief judge and known as one of the cruelest and most sadistic of all Mysians.

"About a month ago," Ralph continued. "Apparently he's been hiding among the rebels in the woods ever since."

Ralph was still looking at the boy, and Trowa turned to look at him as well. The boy looked back at them with a blank expression.

"Did they describe the killer?" Trowa asked.

"Yeah – some kid, they said. Pale, skinny, with strange eyes and long hair in a braid. Said his name was Duo Maxwell."

The boy swallowed hard, but his violet gaze was steady as he looked up at them.

"Duo Maxwell?" Trowa repeated, testing out the name. The boy flinched.

"They want to search the camp," Ralph continued.

The boy's neutral expression was replaced by one of complete fear. His gaze flickered over to the Mysians and when he looked back at Trowa it was clear he thought he was facing his death.

Trowa sighed.

"Enemy of my enemy?" Ralph suggested.

Trowa nodded.

"Didn't we see someone of that description with that caravan of fat merchants?" Trowa asked even as he knelt in front of the boy.

"Yeah, I think we did." Ralph shrugged. "Those Mysian bastards will still want to check us out though."

"Can't blame them. We are known as sneaky bastards," Trowa agreed.

Ralph walked back towards the sentries and Trowa started to cut the boy free.

"What are you doing?" The boy demanded.

"What's your name?" Trowa repeated his question one last time.

The boy rubbed at his sore wrists.

"Duo Maxwell. He just told you."

"You don't have any chance of defeating the Mysians," Trowa told him.

"That's no reason to let them kill innocent people," the boy argued.

"No," Trowa agreed. "We agree on that."

Trowa looked into Duo's eyes.

"Try to follow the South star – walk towards it and in a few miles you'll come across the Severn river. Follow that downstream and you'll eventually reach a bridge. Go east and it'll take you towards the plains. Go west and – "

"And it's back towards Mysia. Yeah."

Duo looked at Trowa a moment longer, then shook his head.

"Had fun in the wagon this afternoon," he said and then, with a grin and a flash of determination in his eyes he sprinted into the woods and quickly melted into the darkness.

Trowa found himself smirking after the boy.

It was several minutes later when Ralph led the Mysians over to him.

"…our captain, he'll tell you the same thing I did and the others did," Ralph said as they approached.

Trowa stood and did his best to look mildly impressed by the armed men.

"Yes?"

"We're looking for the rebel Duo Maxwell. He's been reported to be living in these woods. He killed the Inquisitor."

"I'm not familiar with the name," Trowa said. "What does he look like?"

"Short, skinny kid. Pale, with violet eyes and -"

"Does he have long hair?" Trowa interrupted. "Wears it in a braid?"

The leader of Mysians nodded.

Trowa turned to Ralph.

"Didn't we see someone like that with the merchants we passed on the road today?"

"Yeah – that's what I told them. Troy remembered the kid too." Ralph jerked his thumb towards another fire and a cluster of men gathered around it.

Trowa turned back to the Mysians.

"They were headed for YOUR kingdom," he said. "I hope the merchants aren't just a cover for some attack."

The Mysian leader looked alarmed.

"Must have been nearly twenty wagons in that caravan," Trowa continued. "That's enough to hide quite a large rebel army."

Ralph nodded.

"Not to mention equipment to sabotage Mysian defenses. Did I ever tell you about the fellow who claimed he knew a way into their sewage tunnels that would take you straight to the palace? I'll bet with the right amount of –"

"Thank you for your help," the Mysian leader interrupted Ralph's rambling. As one the Mysians turned and retreated from their camp.

"Damn strange day," Ralph said after they had gone and the camp settled again.

Trowa nodded in agreement.

Ralph clapped him on his left shoulder, and Trowa winced in pain.

"Well, at least you made a new friend."

As Ralph wandered off to rejoin some of the others, Trowa sat back down in front of his fire. The boy's headscarf was still on the ground, and he picked it up.

The rough wool scratched against his fingers.

Duo Maxwell, Trowa mused, was more than a simple rebel. There was no way that a simple if brash young boy – a failed acolyte – was responsible for the death of the Mysian Inquisitor. There had to be more to him.

* * *

Up next: the pace picks up a bit and we meet the Captain of the Royal Theran Guard, Heero Yuy.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: I promise this was inspired by Tangled/Rapunzel…seriously, if you squint really, really hard you'll see what I mean. No, this isn't happy or filled with song. Or happy. But it was GOING to be…until I started to write it. There are also blatant references to Lord of the Rings and a few other fantasy-genre staples.

A/N #2: So, this is me, which means that Trowa and Duo are going to be involved. There will be more pairings, but I'd really rather let them develop than paste them all over this.

A/N #3: The POV will switch between characters – likely MOSTLY between Heero, Duo, and Trowa.

A/N #4: Sorry for the super long time between updates. Life has been...challenging of late, but that's all resolved now.

A/N #5: Thanks for all the reviews! I'd love to respond to you if you've been generous enough to take the time to leave one, but I can't unless you are signed in. So just know that I really appreciate it!

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Two

The cavernously large reception hall was packed with soldiers. The entire Royal Guard, save for a handful of sentries, were arrayed before the throne of the King of Thera. All were in their full military regalia, and as the ancient bronze doors opened each soldier drew their swords and saluted the king on his throne.

Heero Yuy drew in a deep breath before stepping forward into the hall and marching between the ranks to the front of the room.

He came to a stop just before the dais steps and looked up at the King.

Gregory had aged well, despite the hardships during his reign. The man's long chestnut hair was streaked with gray, but his brilliant blue eyes were still alert and filled with fire. The creases on his tanned face told the story of a man who had lived long, and lived well. They also spoke of great personal tragedy.

On either side of Gregory's throne were two smaller thrones, but only the left one was occupied.

As the eldest son, Solo had been trained from birth as a warrior, and he looked it. Every inch of his lean frame was muscled and firm. His golden blonde hair was loose around his shoulders, held back only by two narrow braids at his temples. A thin gold circlet crowned his head.

The other throne _should_ have been occupied by Gregory's other son, but it had been empty for fifteen years. The plump blue velvet cushions seemed to be mocking Heero as he looked at them.

"Who approaches the throne of my father?" Solo asked the formal question, ruining the solemnity of the moment by winking at Heero as he asked.

"Heero Yuy, Lieutenant of the Royal Guard."

Heero drew his sword and lay it across his own hands before kneeling in front of Gregory.

A moment later the king rose to his feet and walked down the dais.

"Heero Yuy, you have served us well, and spent your life committed to my service."

"Yes, my king."

"And will you continue to do so, for as long as your hand may hold a sword?"

"Yes, my king."

"And will you protect my son as though his blood was yours and his kingdom your own?"

"Yes, my king."

"Then I name you Captain of the Royal Guard. May you serve long and bring your father – bring your father's memory the honor he deserves."

No one could have missed the way Gregory's voice broke at the mention of Heero's father, and Heero felt a wash of shame and guilt at the emotion from the proud king.

The hall was completely silent as Gregory took Heero's sword and replaced it with the traditional sword of the Captain of the Royal Guard, and ancient blade forged by a long dead people. Tradition held that as long as the Captain carried this blade the Royal family would be safe from harm.

Heero's fist clenched around the gilt handle. If only his father had followed tradition and carried the blade at all times, then perhaps the Royal family _would_ have been safe from harm.

"Rise, Captain, and lead your Guard," Solo directed Heero once Gregory had resumed his seat.

Heero rose and replaced the sword in the scabbard at his side. He bowed first to Solo and then to Gregory before turning to face his men.

"Guard, welcome your new Captain," Solo shouted.

The silence of the hall was broken by hundreds of cheers as the Guard fell out of ranks and swamped Heero at the foot of the dais.

He stood and accepted the backslaps and handshakes, forcing himself to smile politely at these men he now led.

His new Lieutenants, Alex and Trant, waded through the men and grinned at him.

"Captain," Alex greeted.

"Lieutenant," Heero responded.

Trant smirked.

"We've seen to it that your things have been moved to your new quarters."

Heero tensed at that. With all of the ceremony of the day, he had completely forgotten that he would be leaving the barracks that he had shared with Alex and Trant and would move to the traditional quarters of the Captain of the Guard, quarters that were in the same wing as those of the Royal family. Quarters that his father had once occupied.

"And we've scheduled the sentries for the rest of the night," Alex added.

A large hand clapped Heero's shoulder.

"Which means it's time to get your new captain drunk!" Solo said with a grin.

Heero rolled his eyes even as Alex and Trant cheered in agreement.

"To Harold's!" Solo instructed.

A cheer went up from the soldiers and before he could argue, Heero was hefted on the shoulders of his men and carried from the hall.

He looked back to see Gregory still on his throne, and the king suddenly seemed smaller and older than he had a moment ago. He watched as Gregory rose and left the dais, running a hand over the empty throne to his right as he did so.

* * *

It was after midnight when Heero was finally able to abandon his men and escape from their revelry.

Solo had stayed with the men for several hours before he had returned to the palace to eat the evening meal with his father, and after the prince had left the drinking had quickly turned even heavier.

Heero knew that most of his guard would be in sorry shape tomorrow, and he decided to put them through parade an hour later than normal. He gave the order to both Alex and Trant before he left them. He was pleased to see that while they had indulged, both of his Lieutenants were only mildly intoxicated.

There were the briefest of protests as Heero left them at the tavern, and he knew that once he left the men would no doubt drink even harder. He didn't begrudge them this chance to celebrate, even if it felt like a horrible mockery to him.

He spent an hour wandering the battlements of the palace and checking in with each sentry posted to watch over the Royal family. He accepted each man's congratulations and thanked each for volunteering to sit out the festivities and do their duty.

But by two in the morning he could think of no other excuse to keep him from his quarters, and he finally made his way to the Royal wing of the palace.

He had walked these halls since the time when he had taken his first steps, and he was intimately familiar with the long, marble corridors. As a child he and Solo had explored every inch of this palace, and while they had made many discoveries, there was no room that held such reverence for Heero as those of the Captain of the Guard.

The small set of rooms was Spartan by comparison to the rest of the palace accommodations, but to a soldier they were the epitome of luxury. There were entrances to three secret corridors, the stables, the reception hall, and the main Royal wing from within the quarters. Narrow windows provided light and an enourmous fireplace warmth.

As a child, Heero had grown up in those quarters. It was unusual for the Captain to keep his son in the quarters, but since Heero's mother had died giving birth to him, tradition had been broken and Heero had been raised alongside the princes at Court.

They were the quarters that Heero's father's father had occupied, and his father before him, and his before him, going back seven generations. Only one man not in Heero's family had occupied those quarters, and that had been James, the man who had held the post since the death of Heero's father and who had given it up only this year, when he felt that Heero was ready for the role that was his birthright.

They were the quarters that Heero's father had died in, and it was that reason that made his steps slow and heavy as he neared the strong oak door.

He rested one hand on the iron handle, knowing that his father's hand had turned it countless times, and he could feel the weight of centuries press down on him.

With a sigh, Heero opened the door and stepped into the rooms he hadn't seen in fifteen years.

He closed the door behind him and leaned back on it.

Someone had lit a fire in the hearth, and he was grateful for the warmth.

The meager library that Heero had inherited from his father was arrayed on a set of shelves hear the fire, and the trunk containing his weapons sat at the foot of the large four poster bed. The heavy damask curtains had been drawn, no doubt to keep out the chill of the night.

Heero stepped into the anteroom which held his small wardrobe and then into the mirrored room water closet. He certainly appreciated this luxury – the chance to wash in private, in the warmth of his room. As a soldier he was used to the meanest conditions, but he had been raised to appreciate comfort. Hot water was one of those comforts, and he eagerly washed his face with the hot water from the brass faucet.

He undressed and placed his dress uniform on a hanger before placing his new sword on the trunk lid at the foot of his bed.

A wave of exhaustion hit him, and he crawled into the bed, determined to sleep without dreaming of his father on this night of all nights.

"You've certainly moved up in the world."

Heero reached for his sword on instinct as the voice rose from the darkness of the bed.

"Trowa." He relaxed as he recognized the voice. Even so, he tied back one side of the bed curtains, allowing a spill of firelight in as well as a draft of cold air.

Sure enough, the Sentinel was reclining on the mound of pillows at the head of the bed, an amused expression on his face. The heavy blankets were pulled up to his waist, and the firelight danced in golden patterns across his bare chest.

"When did you get here?"

Trowa shrugged. "Few hours ago. I looked in at Harold's but you were… busy."

Heero snorted. "You could have dragged me away."

"No, your men wanted to celebrate with you."

Heero sighed and sprawled across the bed, letting his head rest on Trowa's stomach.

"Not much to celebrate," he muttered.

Trowa pinched one of Heero's ears none too gently.

"You have a chance to restore honor to your family," he pointed out.

"Impossible. There is no way to repair the damage we have done to this kingdom."

"Heero –"

"The crown prince was kidnapped from this very room!"

"Your father died trying to save him."

"And he failed."

"You cannot change the past," Trowa said, and there was a gravity to his voice that made Heero wince. Trowa, more than anyone else, certainly knew that the past could not be changed.

"You've been gone nearly a month," Heero said, deciding to change the subject. There was too much in their memories that he and Trowa would rather not dwell on, and while he had no problems wallowing in his own pain and self-doubt, he did not want the other man to do so.

"There was work to do in Kos, and a few caravans wanted to pass through the forests before winter settles in."

"Some fat merchant has been making a fuss about you abandoning him to bandits two weeks ago," Heero commented.

Trowa snorted a laugh.

"He's alive, isn't he?" Trowa shook his head. "I'm sorry I missed the ceremony this afternoon, though."

"No, you aren't. You _hate_ having to dress according to your station."

"True, but I do like seeing you in full uniform."

"You like undressing me from my full uniform," Heero corrected and rolled over.

Trowa smirked at him.

"Looks like you already did that, though," he commented and ran a hand over Heero's bare back.

Heero wrapped one arm around Trowa's shoulders and pulled the other man to him.

"I seem to recall you enjoying what we do _after_ I'm undressed, too," he murmured against Trowa's lips.

"Hm. I think I like that part best," Trowa agreed and kissed him.

Heero allowed himself to drown in the sensations of Trowa's kiss. He locked away all of his doubt, all of his dark memories, and tried to merely exist in the present.

They had been lovers for long enough to know every inch of each other's bodies intimately, every sensitive spot, and every scar.

When Heero ran one hand across Trowa's left shoulder in a caress he felt the other man stiffen even as he noticed the skin under his fingers was rough.

Heero pulled back from their kiss.

"New injury?"

Trowa scowled.

"It's healing. I didn't realize it was deep enough to scar, and it's been tricky to rest the joint. It keeps opening back up."

"Let me see."

Trowa sat up and shifted so that he was closer to the foot of the bed and the firelight.

Heero examined his shoulder and took note of the small but deep cuts just above the joint.

"Impossible to rest that if you rely on a bow."

"I noticed," Trowa growled.

"How did it happen?"

"That fat merchant who's been whining? His caravan _was_ attacked by some bandits. Absolutely pathetic – all of them. Half starved and without any decent weapons. We stopped them before they could steal anything, but one of the bastards led me on a merry chase and I landed on a jar of lavender oil that shattered. Most of the jar wound up in my shoulder and my side."

"Lavender oil?"

"Still can't get the damn scent off of my oilskin cloak," Trowa complained.

Heero chuckled and then leaned forward and kissed the wound. He worked his way towards Trowa's clavicle and then up his neck and across his jaw. He paused before kissing Trowa's lips.

"Trowa Barton felled by perfume and a half-starved bandit," he muttered. "How embarrassing."

Trowa's green eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Heero kissed him, swallowing any argument the Sentinel may have had.

They took their time caressing and pleasuring each other. Heero was used to Trowa's long absences, and they had developed a routine of sorts over the years. Their first time making love when Trowa returned was always like this, always slow and careful, as they remembered the way it felt to be wrapped together so tightly they felt like one being.

He loved to see Trowa's face as the man orgasmed, and repeatedly brought the man to climax with his hands and mouth before he bothered with hunting down lubricant and taking his own pleasure.

The first thing he could find in the water closet was, in fact, a jar of lavender oil. He laughed out loud as he smelled it, but decided to use it in any case.

"What the hell is that smell?" Trowa demanded when Heero climbed back into the bed and coated the the fingers of his right hand in the oil.

"Don't you recognize it?" Heero asked with a smirk.

"You're a sick bastard, Heero," Trowa muttered and then groaned when Heero started to prepare him.

"You love it," Heero said, enjoying the play of emotion on Trowa's face as the man fought to remain irritated even as his hip's rose to meet Heero's touch.

"Stop teasing me," Trowa hissed as Heero pumped two fingers into him, enjoying the feel of the tight ring of muscles around the digits.

"As you wish."

Heero coated his erection with the oil and positioned himself at Trowa's entrance. He held his gaze as he slowly entered the tight heat of the other man, and both groaned when Heero was fully buried.

"I've missed you," Heero said.

"You've missed my tight ass," Trowa corrected.

"Hn." Heero didn't bother to argue the point – Trowa knew that he wanted him for more than his body – and right now it _was_ his tight ass that he had missed the most.

He tried to last as long as he could, drawing in and out of Trowa's body slow enough to drive both of them mad with the sensations, but eventually Trowa lost patience and took control of the pace, quickening it by jerking his hips up to meet Heero's thrusts.

Heero could feel himself approaching orgasm and he reached out to stroke Trowa's erection, wanting to bring the other man to climax again.

He got his wish only a moment later, as Trowa came with a hoarse shout, and his tensing muscles forced Heero to orgasm as well.

A deliciously content feeling spread though Heero as he sat back on his heels and waited for his heartbeat to slow. The physical release of orgasm, coupled with the relief of having Trowa back in his bed, helped to banish the lingering doubt and shame that the ceremony had brought to the forefront of his mind again.

It took Heero a moment to muster the energy to rise from the bed and fetch a towel to clean them off, and he practically sprinted to avoid the chill of the stone floor.

Once clean and under the sheets he turned on his side and regarded Trowa.

"Have you heard anything?"

"From Mysia?"

Heero nodded.

"Just the usual – they've been burning free workers out of their lands. A lot of rebels and vagrants in the Western Wood."

"Our spies report that one rebel in particular has been troubling them," he said.

"Wouldn't be Duo Maxwell, would it?"

"Yes, actually. Apparently he's leading some band of rebels who've been attacking the Mysian armies sent to burn out the free workers."

"Good for him," Trowa muttered.

Heero arched an eyebrow.

"That half starved bandit who embarrassed me? It was him – Duo Maxwell."

"From his description he doesn't sound like much," Heero commented.

"He doesn't look like much either," Trowa mused. "He could use a decent meal or ten." He shook his head and then laid back and closed his eyes.

"Wonder how long before the Mysians catch him." Heero closed his own eyes and settled back on the pillows.

"At the rate his luck was running when I met him? Maybe another few months, then they'll have themselves a nice public execution and the rebels will go into hiding again for a few years."

"Someday there's going to be a rebel they _don't_ catch, and then there will be hell to pay."

"Sure," Trowa agreed, and his voice betrayed his exhaustion. "Sleep now?" He suggested.

Heero smirked in amusement. Trowa was remarkably even tempered – Heero could count on one hand the number of times he had ever seen him truly outraged – but he was incredibly cranky if he wasn't allowed to sleep when he wanted to.

"Yeah," Heero agreed and pulled the blankets up to his chin. He felt Trowa settle against his back and he allowed himself to relax.

"See, it wasn't the worst day of your life," Trowa said just as Heero drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Heero woke at dawn and wasn't surprised to find Trowa already gone. The Sentinel kept odd hours, sleeping only four or five hours at a time before rising, but Heero trusted that Trowa intended to stay for a while and not just the night.

The morning parade wasn't nearly as sloppy as Heero had predicted it would be, and he was proud to see the men assembled in the palace courtyard at the assigned hour, Alex and Trant leading the ranks as Heero inspected them.

He was about to dismiss them when he caught sight of Solo and Trowa approaching. Both men were dressed in hunting gear, and Trowa was smirking slightly at some joke that Solo was telling him.

"Attention!" Heero commanded his men as Solo reached them.

The Guard instantly snapped to order and saluted their prince.

Solo nodded in appreciation.

"They look excellent, Captain Yuy. And so refreshed. Surely these men weren't the ones who kept Harold's open until three this morning, are they?" Solo smirked.

"Your Guard are truly remarkable," Heero told the prince.

Solo laughed.

"Indeed they are. You may dismiss them."

Heero gave the order, and the men fell out of ranks and dispersed. Only Alex and Trant stayed behind.

"I've convinced Trowa to go hunting with me – perhaps you and one of your Lieutenants will accompany us?"

Heero frowned. Solo had always flaunted protocol and he despised having a large retinue follow him. Heero knew that the prince could fend for himself, but he felt an obligation to argue for a larger guard.

He opened his mouth to do just that, but Solo held up a hand to forestall his comments.

"Heero, if you, one of your Lieutenants, a Sentinel, and myself can't keep me alive then we might as well hand over the kingdom to the Mysians now."

"He has a point," Trowa agreed.

Heero glared at him, but realized he was outmatched.

"Very well. Alex, have our horses saddled and brought around."

"Yes sir!" Alex ran off to do his bidding.

"Trant, you have command."

"Thank you, sir." Trant bowed and then left them as well.

Heero fell into step with Solo and Trowa as they walked to the royal stables.

"I was telling Trowa about the attacks on our new settlements in the South Pass," Solo said.

Heero looked at Trowa and the Sentinel shrugged.

"We don't look to the South, but when I return to Kos I will ask Sylvia if we can protect the area."

"That would be appreciated," Solo said. "The damn Mysians aren't content with destroying their own territory but they have to go and terrorize _our_ free workers too."

Heero scowled. "The Mysians seem to be stretching farther than before."

"Don't I know it." Solo sighed in frustration. "And of course, I can't go out and lead the damned army against them. They _know_ we don't have any choices and they're trying to force our hand. If only –" Solo cut himself off and shook his head.

Heero swallowed hard and fought down the instinctive urge to apologize. Solo had been about to say _if only my brother were here_.

"Speaking of Mysians," Trowa interrupted Heero's dark thoughts, "the rebels seem to be organizing themselves a little better."

Solo snorted.

"Only the one group. How ironic is it that they are led by some kid named after Duo?"

It was a common practice for the citizens to name their children after a prince or princess born the same year as their own child, and Heero had at least five Solos and Duos who served in the Royal Guard.

"I'd like to know how he managed to kill their Inquisitor," Solo continued. "And lived!"

"Trowa befriended him recently," Heero said with a smirk.

"Befriended the way only Trowa can make friends or _actually_ befriended him?" Solo asked with a laugh.

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"Keep making fun of me and I'll forget that I like _either_ of you," Trowa muttered.

Solo clapped him on the back.

"In all seriousness, what was he like?"

"Half starved. And like _you_ ," Trowa told Solo, "he fancied himself to be funny even though he wasn't."

Solo laughed.

"He also managed to give Trowa a few new scars," Heero helpfully added.

"I like him!" Solo declared.

"Closest I've come to dying in years," Trowa muttered, "and you probably want to give him a medal for that, hm?"

"I'd rather give him a medal for killing the Inquisitor. I wonder –"

"Solo!"

All three men turned.

A slender man was running towards them. His short, white blonde hair was a bright contrast to his dark clothing and pale skin.

"Trowa! I didn't realize you were back."

"Quatre," the Sentinel greeted the courtier as he stopped before them, slightly out of breath.

Quatre smiled and nodded at Heero before turning back to Solo.

"Mind if I go with you? It's likely to be the last day before snow starts to fall and -"

"And you hate the cold," Solo finished for him. "If you want, of course."

Quatre smiled broadly and Solo grinned back.

Heero resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Unless you two would rather spend the day in bed?" Trowa suggested, obviously feeling no need for restraint.

Quatre flushed but Solo only chuckled.

"That's what the nights are for!" Solo insisted. "Besides, Quatre's right, this likely will be the last day of good hunting, and Cook said he'd like to roast a wild boar tomorrow."

Solo draped an arm around Quatre's shoulders and led the shorter, younger man on to the stables.

Trowa and Heero followed at a slower pace, amused by the prince's public affection for his favorite lover.

* * *

They spent the morning riding to the eastern forests, and Heero was grateful that Alex was along to guide the spare horse that would, if all went well, carry the litter and the day's killings back to the palace that afternoon.

He forced himself to stay alert as they rode, taking point while assigning Trowa the task of riding behind Solo through the open fields until they reached the forest.

From years of experience, Heero knew that once they reached the forest there would be no corralling the prince. He was as dedicated a hunter as he was a warrior, and wouldn't allow something as trivial as personal safety to come between himself and a kill.

Quatre kept up a steady stream of conversation with the prince as they rode.

Solo was infamous for his conquests – male and female alike – but it hadn't been until Quatre Winner arrived at court, a visiting dignitary from the Lydian kingdom far across the western sea, that Solo had actually seemed to develop an attachment to any of his lovers. Instead of leaving after a year, Quatre had stayed for the last three years, and seemed to be in no rush to leave.

At first Heero had resented the blonde and his relationship with Solo, but it was clear that Quatre provided Solo with more than a warm body. Quatre made him _happy_ , and Heero hadn't seen the prince truly happy in fifteen years.

"About this medal," Solo said to Heero once they arrived in the forest and spread out. "I think it's a good idea."

"To award bandits?" Heero asked in amusement.

"No, not as such. But I think this boy, this Duo Maxwell, might be of use to us."

"As an assassin?" Trowa asked. "I've no idea how he managed to kill the Inquisitor, but I'd guess it was sheer luck. He didn't strike me as much of a cold blooded killer."

"No. I've no use for assassins. But if these rebels could be organized, if we could provide them with weapons and supplies…"

Heero nodded in appreciation to the plan.

" _If_ he accepts them," Trowa mused. "He didn't strike me as much of a follower."

"Enemy of my enemy," Solo said with a shrug.

Trowa nodded in agreement with the familiar Sentinel phrase.

"Can you find him again?" Solo asked him.

Trowa snorted.

"I didn't find him the first time. He found _me_."

"But?" Solo fished.

"I could. But I'd rather not involve the Sentinels in Theran affairs."

"Of course."

"Yet I'm confident he's somewhere in the Western Wood. That territory is filled with actual bandits. And it borders Mysia."

"So you'd like a few men to accompany you?" Solo guessed.

"Just one," Trowa said and looked at Heero.

"I'm the Captain of the Royal Guard," Heero reminded him.

Trowa shrugged. "You're the only one who could keep up with me – since Solo can't go."

"Surely one rebel isn't worth –"

"No," Solo interrupted Heero. "Something tells me this one rebel _is_ worth it. I'll speak to my father, but I imagine that Alex and Trant can fulfill your duties for a time if you go off adventuring with Trowa."

Heero wasn't happy about the idea. He had just been given this post and already he was being asked to abandon it. At the same time, he could feel the stir of excitement about the very prospect of traveling through the Western Wood with Trowa to search for this bandit.

"If that is what my prince desires," he said.

"Excellent. You should leave tomorrow – hopefully you can return before the snows get too bad."

* * *

When they returned to the palace it was dusk, and the spare horse was loaded with a boar and two deer.

"We need to visit the Royal Archives," Trowa told Heero as they walked back to the palace with Alex. Solo and Quatre had already gone ahead with the excuse that they wanted to bathe. Knowing the two of them, Heero doubted that cleanliness was what had driven them to set such a quick pace.

"Why?"

"Maps."

"I thought you Sentinels knew the roads like the palm of your hands."

"Yes, but I have a hunch that Duo Maxwell isn't hiding out in a lean to by the roadside," Trowa said. He wore a frown of concentration, and Heero knew that he was deep in thought.

"I'll stop by the barracks in the morning and give you instructions," Heero told Alex as they parted ways.

"Thank you, sir," Alex said. He looked at Trowa. "Next time you should stay longer than a day," he suggested.

"I planned on spending the winter _this_ time," he groused, but shook Alex's hand. "I'll return your Captain as soon as I can," he promised.

"You know that Wufei promised to cut off your hand if you touched his maps again," Heero reminded Trowa as they walked down the palace halls towards the Archives.

"Then I won't touch them. You can."

"What are we even looking for?"

"The boy – Maxwell – he had an acolyte's tattoo on the back of his neck."

"A failed priest?" Heero asked. Somehow his mental image of the rebel hadn't encompassed that possibility.

"Too young. He's almost too young to be an acolyte."

"If he's named after Duo then he's what, nineteen?" Heero mused.

Trowa nodded. "That's what he claimed. He doesn't look a day over sixteen though. In any case – if he had the opportunity to kill the Inquisitor it stands to reason that _he_ was being interrogated by the Inquisition."

"Yes," Heero agreed.

"So I'm guessing whatever temple he was with is one of those the Mysians burned."

Heero frowned. The Mysians were famously fanatic about destroying religion, and they had spent considerable energy burning down any temple within their lands and the Western Wood. Whatever temple priests and acolytes they hadn't burned with the temple were either sold into slavery or taken before the Inquisition.

"You think he's hiding in one of those temples," Heero guessed.

Trowa nodded. "Yes, we stay clear of the Western Wood, and I've no idea where the ruins are."

"Wufei should know."

"Exactly. Now we just have to convince him not to kill us," Trowa muttered.

Heero smirked at the despair in Trowa's voice.

Wufei Chang had appointed himself the guardian of the Archives, and when, as children, he had caught Trowa eating an apple while reading an ancient text, he had made it his life's work to keep Trowa from harming any of the precious texts within the Archives.

The two men got along perfectly well outside of the Archives, but the minute Trowa set foot in the stacks, Wufei always treated him like an enemy.

Heero found their constant battles amusing, and he was actually looking forward to the coming confrontation.

They found Wufei buried in some distant corner of the library, and the exotic man looked at them warily as they approached.

"What are you two doing in the Archives?" He demanded.

Heero smirked at his tone.

"I need to look at a few maps."

"No."

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"Search my pockets. No food. I promise."

"Why do you need to look at Archival maps?" Wufei asked, suspicious.

"State secret," Trowa told him with a smirk.

Wufei's eyes narrowed.

"Then why are _you_ involved?" He asked.

Trowa shrugged and looked to Heero.

"We need to know the locations of temples in the Western Wood."

"They've all been destroyed," Wufei said dismissively.

"We know," Heero told him.

Wufei sighed and rose from his chair and led them deeper into the Archives.

"Do you know _which_ temples?" Wufei asked as he walked. "The God of Life? The God of the Land? The God of the Sky? The God of the Sea? The God of Death?"

Heero looked over at Trowa.

"The God of Death," Trowa echoed, as if testing the words.

"I didn't think either of you were religious," Wufei commented, clearly fishing for more information.

"We aren't going to give you any more details," Heero assured him.

"As far as I know, the Western Wood only had one temple for the God of Death." Wufei came to a stop in front of an ancient chest of drawers and started to look through them. "The Mysians hate the God of Death's priests more than the others, you know."

"I didn't know." Heero had never concerned himself over the differences between the priests and their temples – as Wufei has said, he wasn't religious, and he knew that Trowa was even less religious than he was. Heero had been to a ceremony only once, and that had been when his father had been cremated. He had been twelve at the time, and the priests for the God of Death had all seemed impossibly old and pale, their very countenances representing the god they served.

"That's right," Wufei said. He gave them both a cautious look. " After the crown prince was kidnapped, rumor had it that the mercenaries who took him were killed in the Western Wood."

Heero did his best to look neutral as Wufei continued. "Apparently a traveling group of priests took him in, so the Mysians started to torch all of the temples in their own kingdom and then those temples in the Western Wood."

"Why do they hate the God of Death's priests so much?" Trowa asked.

Wufei gave him a patronizing look and pulled out a map.

"Their temple in the Western Wood is one of the oldest and most secret."

"Yet you have its location on a map," Heero muttered.

"I don't actually. No one does. Well, no one _did_. It took the Mysians ten years to find it, and by that time - if he had _ever_ been there – the crown prince was long gone. The Mysians tortured the priests and burnt down both the temple and the school."

"The school?" Trowa echoed.

"Yes, a school – an orphanage – some mixture of the two. The priests take in any child whose parents have died, they see it as their sacred duty."

"What happened to the children?" Heero asked.

Wufei gave him a dark look.

"The girls they took and sold into slavery. The boys they locked in before they set it on fire."

Heero winced. The look on Trowa's face was fierce.

"But you know where the temple was?" He asked Wufei.

"Somewhere here," Wufei said, and ran his fingers over a section of the Western Wood that was dangerously close to the Mysian border.

"Damn," Trowa said.

"Just how important _is_ this sightseeing tour of yours?" Wufei asked.

"I don't think it's _this_ important," Heero mused.

He trusted Trowa to watch his back more than he trusted any man alive, but he wasn't an idiot. Traveling that close to Mysian territory could very easily result in their deaths. There was no way a Mysian patrol would allow the Captain of the Royal Theran Guard to pass unmolested.

"You'll have to travel as a Sentinel," Trowa decided, his thoughts on a parallel course to Heero's.

"I didn't think you wanted the Sentinels associated with this?"

"Can't be helped, now. I'll ask Sylvia for forgiveness later. You still have your gear?"

Heero had spent three years living with the Sentinels after his father's death, and while he would never be a full member of that elect society, he was viewed as a friend, and had been gifted with the traditional cloak, bow, and hood of the Sentinels.

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Damnit, this is much further than I thought it would be." Trowa shook his head.

"We could probably talk Solo out of it," Heero told him.

"No. No, there's something about him – we need this boy."

Trowa and Heero studied the map, memorizing the unfamiliar terrain. Trowa shot Wufei a hopeful look.

Wufei snorted.

"Don't even think about it. This map is three hundred years old."

"Then surely there's been a new one made since then?" Trowa suggested.

"Clearly there hasn't, and certainly not in the last hundred years. The Mysians would kill any Royal cartographer dumb even to travel to their territory."

Heero sighed and shook his head. He trusted Trowa's judgment, but he had a hard time believing that Duo Maxwell would prove to be anything other than a vengeance driven bandit.

If they could even find him.

* * *

Up Next: Duo makes some new friends.

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: I promise this was inspired by Tangled/Rapunzel…seriously, if you squint really, really hard you'll see what I mean. No, this isn't happy or filled with song. Or happy. But it was GOING to be…until I started to write it. There are also blatant references to Lord of the Rings and a few other fantasy-genre staples.

A/N #2: So, this is me, which means that Trowa and Duo are going to be involved. There will be more pairings, but I'd really rather let them develop than paste them all over this.

A/N #3: The POV will switch between characters – likely _mostly_ between Heero, Duo, and Trowa.

A/N #4: I know, I know, I was supposed to update Umbra next - but when I sat down to write Umbra this came out instead. I promise more Umbra soon!

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Three

It took Duo three days of constant pleading before Howard would allow him to leave the camp and track down the fat merchant who had killed Stephen.

He knew that the merchants had been headed for Mysia, but there was no way Duo would risk the Inquisition again, so he tried to find where the merchants were from and when they would return. He visited the few outposts on the edge of the Western Wood and traveled further north before he finally learned that those particular merchants – well known as swindlers and greedy bastards – were natives of the Theran capital of Antioch.

It took him a while to travel that far – the Mysians seemed to have grown enormously confident of late and were sending raiding parties as far north as the South Pass of Thera, and Duo wasn't about to get picked up by one of their patrols.

By the time he reached Antioch it was two weeks after their failed attack on the merchant caravan, and Duo's fury over the death of Stephen had cooled and crystallized into a solid determination to give the boy company in the afterlife.

He stabled his horse, Scythe, at one of the more trustworthy hostlers in the poor quarter of Antioch and then set about stalking his prey.

Travy Huston was the name of the fat merchant who had killed Stephen, and Duo learned that he lived in the East quarter of the city. That quarter was the most prosperous outside of the Royal quarter, and it was the home of the wealthiest artisans, merchants, and minor nobility in Antioch.

For two days Duo stalked Huston, followed him to parties and business deals, learned that he liked to keep company with young girls late into the night, and that he favored the sickly sweet brandy that was a Theran trademark.

Duo finally had his chance on the third night, when the girl Huston had paid for slipped away early after the fat man had passed out from too much drink. Duo snuck into the large estate and made his way silently into the opulent sleeping chamber.

The fat man was snoring loud enough that Duo could have led a marching band through with no danger of waking him. It only took Duo a few moments to find that ridiculous golden dagger that Stephen had been killed with.

Duo held it in his hand gingerly, despising the weapon and the man who had used it with equal loathing. It was a mere decoration, the soft metal would never hold up to actual combat. But it was certainly strong enough to slit the throat of a twelve year old boy.

He decided to see if it was strong enough to kill again.

Duo jumped onto the large feather bed, landing just beside Huston's head, and the motion startled the man awake.

"What – who are you?" Huston instantly shouted.

Duo crouched down and grinned at the fat man.

"Me? I'm just a nightmare," he assured Huston.

"What do you want?" Huston's small eyes narrowed as they caught sight of the dagger in Duo's hand. "There's more where that came from – more gold – in my dresser – or –"

"I don't want your filthy gold," Duo told him, his voice a soft, deadly caress.

"What – what do you want?"

"You're asking the wrong questions, here," Duo told him, his voice patient.

"I – I have friends. Powerful friends. My cousin's nephew is a Lieutenant in the Royal Guard! I –"

"Your cousin's nephew?" Duo repeated. "Damn, that practically makes you royalty."

"Please! What are you here for?"

"Now you're catching on." Duo patted the cheek of the fat man. "The God of Death just received a very lonely boy into his company, and he wants you to join him."

It took a moment, but Huston caught on.

"No! No! He was just a pathetic –"

He never had the chance to finish his plea. Duo plunged the dagger into his throat, and Huston's words died in a gurgle of blood.

Duo eased away from him and sat back, cross-legged, and waited for the merchant to succumb.

He left him after half an hour, the dagger still buried in his neck.

* * *

The next morning Duo purchased a few medical salves and a slew of cheap toys for the children in the camp.

Already there were whispers on the streets of Huston's murder, and Duo felt grim satisfaction that he was spoken of with little respect, and his passing was seen as a warning to the other greedy merchants in Antioch.

Duo was ready to leave the capital by noon, and as he waited in the inspection line before the massive gates to the city, he planned the quickest route back to the Western Wood.

His thoughts were interrupted when two men on horseback passed by him. Both men were dressed in heavy winter clothes, with oilskin hoods thrown back over their shoulders. Their horses were packed with weapons and supplies, and every line in their bodies conveyed danger to Duo.

He instinctively pulled his own hood tighter against his face, making sure that his hair was hidden and his face shadowed.

One of the men turned to the other to say something, and the profile of his face made Duo's heart skip a beat.

It was the Sentinel, Trowa Barton.

Mentally cursing, Duo thought about how he could ease out of the inspection line without being noticed.

He relaxed, however, when the two men eased forward, cutting ahead of the line, and were quickly waved through the inspection point.

Duo scowled. There was no way two Sentinels should be able to pass through the inspection that easily. Clearly Trowa Barton - or his companion – was more than a mere Sentinel.

By the time he was waved through the inspection point and allowed outside the city gates, the two Sentinels were mere streaks on the horizon as they galloped towards the southwest.

Duo frowned. The world was a large place, but he didn't like the fact that they were headed in the same direction he was. Something felt incredibly wrong about the entire situation.

Trowa Barton had struck Duo as a man of honor, but also a hard man, and he couldn't decide if that made him a potential ally or enemy.

When the two men rode past the cut-off trails into Kos the next day, with Duo a distant tail, his bad feeling became more pronounced.

There was little in the Western Wood that would be of interest to two lone Sentinels – clearly they weren't meeting some wagon train to offer protection – except, perhaps, for the chance to track down a bandit that had been released?

On the third day of trailing them, Duo was able to close some of the distance between them. As they entered the ancient forest of the Western Wood, where the threes grew broad and close together, he was able to keep the two men in his sight while they rode through.

It was late afternoon when the two Sentinels stopped by a river and made camp.

Duo tied Scythe off before creeping closer to their camp.

He was within a hundred feet when they started to strip and dove into the cool river, and Duo was struck by the lean perfection of their golden bodies.

Trowa was slightly taller than the older man, and his lean frame moved with grace as he swam through the clear water. The other man was more compact, with more defined musculature, and even from this distance Duo could see that his eyes were an intense, exotic dark blue.

Duo crouched behind the trunk of an ancient and huge oak tree and contemplated whether or not to risk looting their provisions – there was a chance he might learn where they were going. If they had maps or –

His thoughts were abruptly derailed when he saw Trowa clasp the other man to him and kiss him.

Duo was frozen in place as he watched the two men caress each other. Trowa seemed to be almost worshipful as he kissed his way down the other man's body and ran his hands over the golden flesh.

He felt his face flush with arousal and shame, but he was helpless to turn away from the sight of the two men.

Trowa led the other man out of the water and eased him onto one of their abandoned cloaks and proceeded to lick and suck his impressive erection. The other man's hips rose to meet Trowa, and the sight and sounds of both men taking pleasure in each other was enough to make Duo forget how to breathe.

He tried to calm his racing heart and clear his mind by repeating Father Maxwell's dire warnings about indulging in sins of the flesh. But even the mental image of the God of Death roasting him alive wasn't enough of a distraction for Duo. Especially when Trowa entered the other man.

The two were beautiful together, straining towards ecstasy, golden limbs twined together and faces flushed with desire.

Duo had to clench his hands into tight fists to avoid touching himself. It was bad enough to be watching these two, to be taking such delight in the sight of their lovemaking; but it would be infinitely worse if Duo were to dare pleasure himself. He imagined that Father Maxwell was battering at the gates of the Underworld right now, desperate to get Duo's attention and turn him back to the path of righteousness.

The two men groaned in unison and then their bodies stilled.

Duo watched as they slowly separated and then returned to the water to clean themselves again.

By the time they had dressed and started a fire, night had settled in, and Duo dared to move even closer, hoping to catch some whisper of conversation from the two.

"I'd forgotten how warm the Western Wood stayed," the other man said as they ate a sparse meal of bread and jerky. Duo's stomach rumbled at the memory of just how tasty that jerky had been. He wondered if there was some Sentinel secret to making it taste so good?

"Give it a few more months and there will be some frost on the ground, but it never gets anywhere near as cold as Thera."

"And Mysia is warmer still."

Trowa looked amused. "Thinking of changing allegiances over the weather?"

The other man snorted. "Never. I'd look ridiculous in their red armor."

"Solo will be thrilled to know that the only thing keeping you on his side is your fashion sense."

"That and my hatred for those butchers," the other man muttered and then shook his head. "I hope this scheme of yours works."

"I just hope we can find the bastard," Trowa said with a frown. "There's no telling where this rebel band is camped."

"But you think they're in the God of Death's temple?"

Duo inhaled sharply. These two were headed directly for the rebel camp, and from the sound of things it wasn't so they could say a friendly hello.

As quietly as he could, Duo backed away from their camp and made his way back to Scythe. By his reckoning they were still a day's ride from Howard's camp, and if he rode through the night he could beat them there by a few hours – not much time, but enough to warn the others.

Duo would have liked to think that a camp of fifty-odd rebels could fend for themselves against two men, but he had seen Trowa in action, and the other man looked just as tough. Not to mention the fact that half of their rebel band were children, and more than a third of their number were too sick or malnourished to put up much of a fight.

Cursing, Duo found his mount and they set off in the darkness. He led them through the trees and fallen leaves as quietly as possible until they were several miles downstream of the Sentinel camp, and then he abandoned all attempts at stealth and urged Scythe to gallop as fast as she could.

* * *

It was only a few hours after dawn when Duo and Scythe reached the edge of the temple fields.

All temples had been self-sufficient, and a decade before these fields had been ripe with grains, potatoes, lettuce, and lentils.

After the Mysian armies had burned down the temple, however, they had taken great pains to salt the earth, ensuring that no crops would grow in the rich soil again.

Duo allowed Scythe to slow her pace and eased off her back as they walked up the large hill that was a vantage point over the entire temple compound.

As a boy, Duo had climbed the hill and read about the mysteries of his god while looking down over the distant figures of the priests and the children. It was the same hill that Duo had led the youngest children to and hidden them while the Mysians killed the priests, acolytes, and the children Duo hadn't been able to save five years ago.

He paused now, just before he reached the crest, and looked over his shoulder, half afraid to see the two Sentinels thundering out of the forest on his heels. But the path was clear.

He looked ahead and saw a nightmare stretched before him.

The temple had been made of blue stone, and even though the wooden rafters had gone up in the original fire, the rebels had managed to repair some of the damage and turn the temple itself into a makeshift hospital, covering the roof with a patchwork of cloaks and tents that barely managed to keep out the rain and wind.

A shanty town of lean-tos and tents radiated out from the temple in colorful disarray.

At least, that was the sight that Duo should have been greeted with.

But below him there were only smoldering ruins and dark clouds of smoke rising from the charred remains of the tents and the temple was again only a blackened shell.

"No," he whispered and then screamed. "No!"

He ran down the hill, abandoning Scythe. In his haste he twisted his ankle and tripped. He ignored the shooting pain and rose to his feet and ran on.

"Howard!" He screamed. "Howard!"

The only answer was silence.

Duo burst into the temple, and what he saw forced him down to his knees.

The black, pitted marble floor was red and pink from the blood of dozens of bodies piled high just before the broken eagle statue at the south end of the temple.

The eagle was the symbol of the gods, and seeing the majestic bird was a sign that the gods were watching over you.

Duo had never seen a live eagle, and the one winged monstrosity that loomed over the corpses was a terrible mockery now of his faith.

The last time the Mysians had tried to destroy the temple they had at least had the decency, albeit indirect, of burning the bodies of their victims. Now, however, they had left them in a bloody, rotting pile.

From the smell it seemed as though the massacre had occurred only a few days ago, and Duo felt a wave of guilt. He should have been here. He should never have gone after that Theran merchant. Howard had wanted him to stay, but Duo had been blinded by his own rage. And now…

Duo refused to allow himself to wallow.

The rituals stipulated that a body had to be cremated within two sunrises of death or the soul of the deceased would never be embraced by the God of Death.

Duo had no idea if he still had time to cremate them, but he would be damned if he didn't give them at least the honor of the cleansing rituals and a proper burial.

He climbed to his feet and approached the pile. He saw a flash of dirty orange hair and nearly choked. Reverently he pulled the body of a three year old girl from among the others and smoothed back her fiery hair. Amara's parents had been killed by the Mysians who drove them from their land, and the poor child had known little but sorrow in her short life.

Duo pulled off his hood and used it to wrap her frail, tiny body before carrying her outside and around the temple to the ancient and sacred fire pits.

As he placed her body amidst the long disused coals he whispered the words that would guide her soul to the God of Death, back to her parents, and to the golden afterlife she surely deserved.

It took him a while to find anything to light a fire with, but he finally managed and he stood by and watched over her as her small body became the dust and ashes of the departed.

By dusk he had only managed to cremate half the bodies, and he was exhausted from carrying them. The pain in his right leg was nearly crippling at this point, but he forced himself to ignore it. It was the absolute least he could do, he reminded himself.

These people had given him shelter when he had fled the Mysian armies, and he had led them here, confident that they would be safe from the reach of those evil men. And because of his confidence, because of _him_ , they were dead.

As night started to fall, Duo used memory and the dim glow of the firepits to guide him in his work. He was in the middle of speaking the ritual over the body of Helen, the woman who had convinced Howard that he wouldn't harm them, when he heard the rustle of movement behind him.

He finished the prayer and drew his dagger before turning. If it was the Mysians returned to look for survivors, Duo was determined to bring a few of them to hell with him.

But it wasn't. It was the two Sentinels. Duo had completely forgotten about them.

"What happened here?" The shorter of them asked.

Duo glared at him and then flicked his gaze over Trowa. The Sentinel's expression was hard to read in the dim light, but it was clear from their body language that neither intended to attack him.

Duo replaced his dagger and brushed past them to return to the temple and bring out the next body.

It was one of the few healthy, adult men in the camp, and Duo struggled with his weight as he carried him down the steps.

The Sentinels had followed him, and Trowa stepped forward as Duo nearly fell over.

"Don't touch them," Duo hissed in warning. Both Sentinels stepped back at his tone. "You aren't clean."

Not that Duo _was_. He hadn't been to a confession since Father Maxwell's death, but he was fairly confident that he was only one present that knew the burial rites, and he wasn't about to let either of the Sentinels ruin whatever slim chance the rebels had of reaching the afterlife.

The two men stayed clear of Duo as he carried the last of the bodies out.

Fate had clearly cursed him. Howard's body was the last, and the man's body was simply too heavy for Duo to carry. He had completely exhausted his strength, and all he could do was cradle the old man to his chest and curse the Mysians. He felt tears sting at his eyes and he furiously swiped them away. He was completely helpless, pathetically weak, and he was unable to do one good thing for the man who had given him a home and a purpose.

"I'll carry him."

It was the other Sentinel again. He was standing over Duo and looking down at him in the dim moonlight, his face shadowed and his blue eyes dark.

Duo wanted to fight, wanted to insist that the other man go to hell and leave him be, but he knew he would never be able to bring Howard to the firepit on his own.

He cleared his throat, fighting back the lump of despair that choked him. There wasn't enough spare fabric to wrap all of Howard's body, so Duo wrapped only his face before he nodded at the other man and allowed him to lift the body away from his lap.

Duo managed to rise to his feet and limped after them. He watched as the man lowered Howard's body into the firepit as carefully as though he was still alive before he backed away.

Duo hobbled over and said the rites one last time.

He stared into the flames and smoke until Howard's body was nothing but a distant memory.

Finally, he turned around to face the two Sentinels.

"If you were looking for the rebels, the Mysians beat you to it," Duo told them.

Both men wore identical frowns.

Duo pushed past them and saw that they had found Scythe and staked her to the grass near their own horses. He walked over and freed her.

"Where are you going?" Trowa asked as Duo clumsily mounted the animal.

"Doesn't really matter now," Duo muttered and started to turn Scythe.

Trowa grabbed her brindle and kept her in place. Duo glared at him.

"Let me go. I'm in no mood to fight you again."

Trowa snorted. "In your state I don't think you'd give a toddler much of a fight, let alone me. What happened?" The question was asked in a softer tone, but it was no less commanding.

Duo hated commands, but the comeback he was prepared to deliver evaporated when the other Sentinel spoke up.

"I thought the deeds of the dead were to be spoken of with honor," he reminded Duo.

Of course he was right, and of course there was no reason not to tell these two, but Duo didn't trust them, and he wanted to horde the grief of the deaths to himself.

He drew in a deep breath.

"I left the camp over a fortnight ago. I only returned this morning and I found them in the temple. The Mysians must have attacked while I was gone."

"Where did you go?" Trowa asked.

"None of your damn business," Duo snapped.

Trowa's eyes narrowed.

"You're the one who's been following us."

Duo was shocked that the Sentinel had known they were being followed, but he only shrugged one shoulder.

"Have you been following us since Antioch?" The other man asked.

"I went to purchase some medical supplies," Duo growled. "And a fat lot of good they did us."

"Just before we left Antioch I heard that Travy Huston had been found dead."

"Who?" Duo sneered.

"I think you know exactly who I'm talking about. He was murdered with his own dagger. A golden blade that I'm sure you remember."

"I guess there is _some_ justice in this world after all, then," Duo said.

He jerked Scythe free from Trowa's grasp. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me."

"We came for you," Trowa called out to him as Duo started back towards the hill. "And so did the Mysians."

That made Duo bring Scythe to a halt. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Of course. It had only been a matter of time.

The Mysian patrol that had invaded Trowa's camp had asked about him by name, hadn't they? He was an idiot to think that they would let the death of their Inquisitor go unpunished.

Once again, Duo was the reason why innocent people had lost their lives on a Mysian blade.

He bowed his head and silently pleaded with the God of Death to simply take his life now. Duo would gladly spend eternity in the fires of hell if it only meant that no one else had to die for him again.

The two Sentinels had mounted their horses and were now flanking Duo on either side.

"What do you want?" Duo asked, ashamed that his voice cracked on the question.

"We were sent to find you and bring you to Thera."

"I'm not going to stand trial for the death of a man who was less than scum," Duo sneered.

"Actually," Trowa said, "Prince Solo wanted to provide your rebel group with weapons and supplies."

Duo laughed bitterly. "'Fraid he's a bit late to the dance. Tell him thanks, but no thanks."

"So you don't want revenge for this massacre?" Trowa asked him.

Duo narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Oh, I'll have my revenge. But I'll be damned if I go begging for help from the Therans. If they gave a damn about anything more than protecting their precious fat asses the Mysians would never have grown this strong."

Duo spurred Sycthe on, leaving the others behind.

Irritatingly, but far from surprising, they quickly caught up to him.

"By the gods you two must be deaf!" Duo shouted at them. "I'm not going anywhere with you, and your Theran prince can shove –"

"Insult Solo again and I'll kill you," the other Sentinel warned Duo, his voice deadly quiet.

Duo looked back at Trowa.

"What happened to Ralph?" Duo recalled Trowa's lieutenant to be every bit as quick tempered as this other Sentinel was, and he had even looked vaguely similar.

"This is Heero Yuy," Trowa informed him. "Captain of the Royal Theran Guard."

Duo's eyes widened involuntarily and he looked back at the other man.

"Out of uniform, aren't you?"

"I'll be back in it just as soon as I bring you back to Antioch."

Duo sighed.

"There are _no_ rebels to arm! There's just me! Your little mission is pointless now. Go home."

"Solo –"

"Your _prince_ can come get me himself if he wants me so badly!" Duo shouted Heero down. "Or is he scared to step foot outside the palace gates? You Therans are all the same. Shit eating cowards who –"

"Gag him," Trowa interrupted Duo's tirade.

Before he could resist, Duo found himself gagged and his hands tied to the pommel of Scythe's saddle.

He glared at the two men, not caring that it was dark and they could barely see him.

"I'd like to put some distance between us and the border before we make camp," Trowa said to Heero, completely ignoring Duo's muffled shouts and curses.

" We could head back to the river and cross it. Try to get rid of our tracks."

"Good plan."

Trowa turned to Duo.

"I'm sorry for what happened to your people. By the time we reach Thera you will be able to put things into perspective, and I think you'll realize that your best chance of fighting the Mysians is by accepting Theran aid." Trowa smirked when Duo shouted at him through the gag. "Maybe a few days with that on will teach you some manners as well."

And with that, they set off, Trowa keeping a loose grip on Scythe's reigns as he led them and Heero trailing just behind.

* * *

The ride gave Duo the chance to rest his ankle, and even though the fast pace Trowa set jarred his bones and muscles, Duo managed to drift off for a few hours, and when he woke it was the middle of the night and they had stopped to make camp.

He waited for Trowa to drag him down from Scythe and glared at the Sentinel when he was shoved down on the ground beside the fire and ordered to stay.

He watched as the two efficiently settled the horses and fed them before coming back to the fire and laying out bedrolls and pulling out food and canteens of water.

Heero loosened Duo's gag so that it fell down to his chin and offered him food and water.

"No," Duo said.

Heero scowled.

"It isn't poisoned," Trowa wearily told him.

"I don't want it," Duo patiently informed him.

They both shook their heads but ate their own food and largely ignored him.

Duo was disconcerted by the lack of conversation between them, but the two men seemed completely at ease with their silence.

"You wouldn't get very far on that ankle," Trowa told Duo as they packed away their food and prepared to sleep, "and we'll hear it if you try to take one of the horses. Smartest thing for you to do is just accept this and get some sleep."

Duo glared at him until Trowa shrugged and lay down on his bed roll. Heero looked at him across the fire, his dark gaze searching, before he too lay down.

It was another two hours before Duo was confident that they were asleep, and then he wriggled out of the rope securing his wrists. As quietly as he could he left the camp and approached the river only a few hundred feet away.

He removed his clothing and once naked knelt by the river and prayed.

The last time he had bothered to pray had been during the Inquisition, the night before they had come for him in his dank cell, and his prayers had done little for him then.

Now, however, he asked the God of Death for forgiveness, and pleaded with him to accept the tardy souls Duo had sent to him. He spent an hour on his knees, trying to remember every prayer and ritual Father Maxwell had ever taught him about sending souls to the afterlife.

Eventually he rose and waded into the river and washed his body clean of the sweat, dirt, and soot that coated his body so thoroughly he could actually _taste_ death on his lips.

He scrubbed his skin with sand from the river bottom and then tried to comb through his hair with fingers going numb from the cold water.

Once clean, he scrambled out of the river and squeezed as much water from his hair as he could before he rebraided it and then dressed.

As he approached the camp again he looked at the two sleeping men. He might still be weak, but he knew his own abilities well enough to know that he could slip away unnoticed by either of them.

But Trowa had been right – on his ankle he wouldn't get far, and he took the Sentinel at his word that he wouldn't be able to saddle Scythe and make his escape before either of them woke.

He would wait until they were closer to civilization before he tried to escape, Duo decided, and he lay down on his own bedroll and tried to sleep.

Predictably, his dreams were haunted by the faces of the dead.

When Duo woke several hours later both Heero and Trowa were working to break camp, but he noticed that neither had bothered to retie his wrists.

"Hungry?" Trowa asked him when he noticed Duo stirring.

Duo nodded and deftly caught the food and canteen that Trowa tossed his way.

Duo started to eat and noticed Heero had stopped packing and was staring at him, his mouth slightly agape.

"What?" Duo demanded.

"You could have told us you wanted to wash," Heero reprimanded him, shaking his head and moving back to his tasks.

Duo sneered.

"And do I need to ask your permission to take a piss, too?"

Trowa smirked at the scowl on Heero's face.

"Are we absolutely certain he's worth the trouble?" Heero muttered.

"The Mysians certainly think he is," Trowa reminded the Theran.

Duo polished off the jerky and heel of bread they had given him, took a sip from the canteen, and then passed it back to Trowa.

He turned and walked away into the woods.

"Where the hell are you going?" Heero called after him.

"I'm taking that piss I was talking about!" Duo shouted over his shoulder.

He heard them both muttering behind him, and he took minimal satisfaction in knowing that he was making their lives miserable. They were kidnapping him, after all.

Trowa set a hard pace, and Duo was amazed at how much ground they had covered by noon. At this rate, he figured they would be near Kos the next day. Antioch was only another day's ride from there, so Duo needed to make good on his escape between Kos and Antioch. There were plenty of free worker settlements on the edge of the forests between the two lands, and Duo was confident he could lose himself among the locals.

The next morning, however, a band of heavily armed Sentinels met them on the road.

Duo recognized Ralph and a few other men who had been guarding the caravan, and he wasn't surprised to see that they recognized him as well.

"It's late in the season to be leaving Kos," Trowa greeted Ralph.

"Sylvia wants us to go to Thera before the passes get snowed in," Ralph explained, his gaze cautious as he looked over Duo. He nodded a greeting at Heero.

"Ride with us, then, you can keep my new friend company." Trowa jerked his head back in Duo's direction.

"How the hell did you find him again?" Ralph asked.

"He found _me_ again, actually," Trowa admitted.

"Why?"

"I'm right here," Duo grumpily informed them. Two days of no conversation from either Heero or Trowa had driven him nearly mad. Now the first chance for human interaction he had and it was directed at anyone _but_ him.

Ralph smirked.

"Why?" He repeated the question, this time directing it at Duo.

"I missed his witty repartee," Duo sneered.

Ralph chuckled and turned back to his leader.

"Some of the other contingents reported heavy Mysian activity on our borders, and Sylvia thinks they're testing our defenses in preparation for a spring assault."

Trowa nodded.

"Not surprising. She wants Theran support?"

"Yes."

"Funny. Solo wanted me to ask _her_ for support," Trowa mused.

"The South Pass settlers are being harassed," Heero explained when Ralph shot him a curious look.

"They aren't the only ones. The Nilsi outpost is gone."

"Gone?" Trowa echoed, and even from a few feet away Duo could see his face go pale.

"All of the settlers were killed or taken as slaves, the fields were salted."

Trowa swore loudly.

Duo was stunned that they were talking this freely in front of him, but then again, _he_ wasn't likely to run to the Mysians and give them information, was he?

Not that he had a chance to even think of escaping.

With the six additional Sentinels joining their party, that night Trowa set up an actual camp with a perimeter and sentries, and Duo knew he had no hope of sneaking out.

"We'll reach Antioch by nightfall tomorrow," Trowa told him as he, Heero, and Duo settled down onto their bedrolls. "I hope you realize that our interests are one and that we should work together to fight the Mysians."

Duo sneered. "What the hell do you think I've been doing my whole damn life? He's the one," Duo jerked his head in Heero's direction, "that's been sitting in his damn castle with his damned kind and his precious prince, afraid to fight them!"

"Solo can't fight them!" Heero hissed, his temper snapping once again. "If Solo dies then there is NO heir to the Theran throne and the Mysians will invade! Do you have any idea how hard it is for him to sit back and read reports of his people dying and be helpless? He's been trained as a warrior since his birth!"

"Then why doesn't he do something! Surely he's a good enough warrior not to be afraid of death!"

Heero shook his head. "It doesn't work that way! You need two princes to rule a kingdom, one to lead the armies, and one to govern the state. Solo has to do both!"

Duo sneered. "That same shit excuse again? The crown prince has been gone for fifteen years! You'd think Gregory and Solo would be smart enough to figure _something_ out by now! I think it's because they're cowards. They didn't even search for the prince for very long, did they?"

Duo laughed at the outrage on Heero's face. "The Mysians tried harder to find him. Maybe you Therans should take a few pointers from the Mysians and get your heads out of your asses. Keep telling yourself that Solo wants to fight. But I know –and every other free worker knows – that all he cares about is sitting back and combing out his golden hair and fucking his whores."

Heero was on him before Duo could react, and the soldier managed to land two solid punches, one to Duo's left eye, and the other to his gut, before Trowa pulled him off.

"I warned you, don't insult my prince again," Heero threatened, his breathing heavy as Trowa forced him back across the fire.

Duo rubbed at his eye and his fingers came away smeared with blood. The Theran certainly knew how to throw a punch.

Heero stalked off and relieved one of the sentries.

Trowa glared at Duo as he sat back down on his own bedroll.

"The next time you want someone to punish you for letting all of those people die, just say so. There's no need to insult a good man, or provoke Heero. He _will_ kill you if you keep insulting Solo."

"That'd be the first decent thing to happen to me in a long time," Duo muttered and rolled over. He stared into the flames.

It bothered him that Trowa could read him so easily.

"You speak about the Therans being cowards, but the only coward I know is _you_ ," Trowa continued. "Innocent people died just because they knew your name, and all you want to do is give up."

"I'm not giving up! You're the one taking me to the opposite end of the forest! Let me go and I'll go back and track down those Mysian bastards!"

"And what? Kill one if you're lucky? You can't do anything on your own, and certainly not in your condition."

"Go to hell," Duo muttered. He met Trowa's green gaze. "Stop trying to manipulate me. You want to give me supplies to fight the Mysians? Fine. Tomorrow when we get to Antioch give me a few hundred gold pieces and some weapons and I'll get some free workers together and I'll lead them to their own slaughter. That should make the Therans feel good about themselves, shouldn't it?"

"I'm confused about who you hate more, the Therans or the Mysians."

"All the same, aren't they?" Duo spat.

* * *

Duo woke up to freezing wind the next morning. The fire had gone out in the middle of the night, and the blanket he had packed in Scythe's saddlebag was barely more than a rag.

He noticed that he was the last to wake in the camp, and he hurriedly packed up his bedroll and prepared Scythe for this last leg of the journey.

It took Duo most of the morning to come up with a plan, but by the early afternoon he felt confident that he could convince Trowa to do this his way.

"So, listen," he said, easing Scythe to ride alongside the Sentinel. "The Therans want me to fight the Mysians. Fine. When we get to Antioch I'll round up some kids spoiling for a fight and maybe your Captain over there will train them into shape, and then we'll be on our way."

Trowa shook his head.

"Not my decision. Or Heero's either," he added when Duo looked over at the soldier.

"Then who?"

"Solo wanted to meet you, so we're bringing you to Solo."

Duo paled.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll enjoy hearing you call him a coward and he might even give you some tips on _your_ hair," Trowa smirked.

"Go to hell," Duo told him, but eased Scythe away.

That had been his last chance to avoid the royal palace, but now he was forced to resign himself to fate. For, once again, she had decided to make his life as painful as possible.

The Royal quarter was in the center of Antioch, split by the ancient river that had first led the Therans to settle this land, and the palace rose high above the neighboring buildings on the right bank of the river.

Duo refused to be impressed by its massive size or elegant architecture. He remained silent as their party were led through the tall, richly decorated corridors and into the cavernous reception hall.

Duo looked down the vast length and could see the King sitting upon the center throne, and a man with long golden hair sitting on the lower left throne. The lower right throne was empty.

Duo swallowed hard and rubbed at his left eye, wincing as he touched the tender flesh. He was no doubt sporting a massive black eye, and the cut below his eye had barely healed.

Both Trowa and Heero gave him warning looks, which only made Duo want to start shouting insults at the king and prince even more.

They approached the throne dais and Heero knelt before it. Trowa remained standing, while the Sentinels bowed their heads and removed their hoods.

Duo frowned at Trowa. Surely _he_ had to show the Theran king at least the same respect as his other Sentinels?

"Kneel," Trowa hissed at him.

"The hell I will. He isn't _my_ king. Why don't _you_ –"

"Duo?"

It was the King's voice, and though Duo's memories of it were distant and blurred, it was the same rich baritone he remembered.

He looked away from Trowa, ignoring the look of confusion on the Sentinel's face, and looked up at the King.

Gregory had risen from his throne and was descending the steps. He stopped on the step just above Duo, close enough that Duo could make out the individual stitches in the gold brocade cloak he wore.

"Duo."

He swallowed hard and looked up to meet the blue eyes of the King.

As soon as he did the King embraced him, crushing Duo's battered body against his own, much larger and very warm body.

"My son."

* * *

Up Next: Trowa thinks a few explanations are in order…

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N #1: So, this is me, which means that Trowa and Duo are going to be involved. There will be more pairings, but I'd really rather let them develop than paste them all over this.

A/N #2: The POV will switch between characters – likely MOSTLY between Heero, Duo, and Trowa.

A/N #3: I'm not sure if anyone even reads these things, BUT, if anyone out there does: can I offer/request a challenge/trade? This fic was supposed to be a Tangled/Rapunzel thing, but it was immediately derailed – for the good. However, I really love the idea of a 2x3 Rapunzel fic. So… if anyone out there loves me and wants to write one, I will gladly accept any challenge you want to offer me. Seriously, I will write any GW fic you want me to - AU, canon, 1x2, 3x4, 1xR for that matter (although, seriously, please no?). Anyway… all you writers out there, give it a thought?

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Four

Trowa could count on one hand the number of surprises in his life that could be categorized as 'good' and still have fingers to spare.

When Gregory engulfed Duo Maxwell in his arms and cradled him like the long lost son he seemed to think he was, Trowa was convinced that this was yet another of the surprises that were NOT good.

Gregory eventually released the half-starved bandit and held him at arm's length and looked to be intently memorizing his features.

It gave Trowa the opportunity to look more closely at the boy as well.

He hadn't seen the family resemblance before – but now that Gregory, Solo, and Duo were together it was blindingly obvious that they were related. Solo and Duo had the same nose and eyebrows, and Duo's hair was that same dark golden chestnut that Gregory's still was under the gray. Duo's frame was thin in comparison to the other men, but Trowa knew that malnutrition and youth accounted for that difference more than anything else.

But Duo's eyes were a striking, vivid violet that was darker than either Gregory or Solo's rich blue eyes. The last time Trowa had seen the crown prince – before earlier that month – he had been only a toddler, barely two years old, and Trowa remembered little about the child aside from short, chubby legs and a round face.

He frowned and tried to remember Elana, the long deceased queen, and the mother to both princes.

"You have your mother's eyes," Gregory said, as if answering Trowa's question. The king's voice was raw with emotion, and his eyes glistened with tears.

Trowa looked away from the emotional reunion when Solo joined his father in hugging the boy again.

Heero was still kneeling, but he was looking at the three men with an almost stricken expression. His face had gone remarkably pale and his eyes were wide.

Trowa wondered what the soldier was thinking, and why he looked so alarmed.

"I sent you to find a rebel bandit and instead you restore my brother to my family," Solo spoke up. He ruffled Duo's hair, and Trowa was certain he was the only one who saw the boy flinch away from the touch. "I can never thank you enough."

"It was no more than my duty," Heero said when Solo looked at him.

The prince clapped him on the back and tugged at his shoulder until he stood to his full height.

"Your father can rest easy in the afterlife now," Solo assured him.

Heero nodded, but his expression was anything but relieved. He eyed Duo warily.

"At last this kingdom has cause to celebrate," Gregory announced, finally releasing Duo and allowing the boy the chance to breathe and stand on his own. "We will have a week of revelry!"

"And a tournament," Solo suggested, a sly twinkle in his eyes that was exactly the look Duo had given Trowa before he escaped into the woods the first night of their acquaintance. "Now that my brother is returned, it's time the warriors in this land woke up!"

It was the most animated and happy that Trowa could recall seeing the prince, and he couldn't blame him. Solo wasn't one to sit idly by, and yet Duo's absence for the past fifteen years had forced him to do just that. Now, he finally had the chance to claim his birthright and lead the Theran armies against Mysia.

Gregory looked at Duo, his gaze searching.

"You must be exhausted from your journey," he concluded when Duo remained silent. Gregory looked over the boy at Trowa and Heero. "Please, all of you should rest. Tonight we shall feast as we haven't in years!" He promised with a smirk.

Trowa thought it was incredibly strange that Duo had remained silent throughout the proceedings. Even with a gag on the boy hadn't ceased to rant and shout at Trowa and Heero.

A page stepped forward.

"Er, your Majesty, the prince's quarters are…"

"A little dusty, I imagine," Solo filled in for the boy.

"Yes, my prince. I mean, no, they are in excellent condition. But we weren't expecting his…return. At least, not so soon. Or –"

"I'm sure that Duo is hungry. At least, he _looks_ it," Solo interrupted the poor boy. "I'll escort him to the kitchens while YOU see to it that his quarters are prepared.

" _Thank you_ , my prince." The page practically fled from the reception hall.

"Well, hungry?" Solo grinned at his younger brother and clapped him on the back.

"I could eat, yeah," Duo said. "Thank you," he added quickly.

They two walked from the room, and Trowa turned his head to watch them. They were an incredible contrast. Solo walked with a bounce in his step and his long-legged gait was filled with energy, while Duo shuffled along behind him, shoulders hunched, his pace suggesting he was on his way to the gallows.

"I can never thank you enough," Gregory interrupted Trowa's observation.

He turned back to the king.

"Tell me – no, no, please, you two look ready to fall over. Go, rest, bathe. But join me in Winter Garden before supper. I want you to tell me everything about my son."

Trowa frowned. "There isn't much to tell. We barely know him." And Trowa was confident that what little he and Heero _did_ know would do nothing but make the king feel anger and guilt.

"All the same, everything about his life is worth knowing," Gregory assured them.

He patted both Trowa and Heero on the back before moving past them and exiting the reception hall.

"I'm sorry," Ralph broke the silence that fell over them, "but are you telling me that that foul mouthed little bastard is the future _king_ of Thera?"

Trowa gave his lieutenant an amused look. Ralph looked completely disgusted.

"Therans are idiots. We'd never let this happen in Kos." He shook his head. "Permission to find lodging for the men?"

"Tell Alex and Trant to give them quarters in the Guard's barracks," Heero spoke up for the first time.

"Thank you." Ralph shook his head one more time and then signaled for the other Sentinels to follow him from the room.

"Come on, you stink," Trowa told Heero. He started to walk out as well, and a moment later Heero started to follow him.

They were silent on the walk back to Heero's quarters, but that wasn't unusual.

Trowa thought that no one alive understood him as well as Heero did, and he imagined that it was the same for Heero. Neither of them were particularly chatty, and they went long stretches without having to talk to each other at all. They were connected by a bond stronger than witty conversation, and sometimes they could share more with just a look than many could with an entire hour of talk.

When they arrived back at the Captain's quarters Trowa was relieved to see that their gear had been brought in and a fire lit in the hearth.

He immediately started to run a bath in the water closet, and sighed in pleasure as steam rose from the piping hot water. He started to strip from his travel clothes, relieved to be able to shed them after nearly a week of living in them.

It wasn't until he had one foot in the enormous copper bathtub that he realized that Heero was still fully dressed, standing in front of the fire and staring into it as though looking for answers.

Trowa sighed and braved the cold floor to cross back to his lover.

"You know, if I was you I'd also be contemplating suicide. After all, you've managed to restore your family's honor _and_ you've given Solo the ability to attack the Mysians and try to save the Theran kingdom from ruin."

Heero looked up at him with a scowl.

"I know all of that."

"So what's troubling you?" Trowa could decipher Heero better than anyone else could, but he couldn't read his mind, and he was at a complete loss for why Heero looked so depressed. "Is it because he's a foul mouthed little bastard?" Trowa quoted Ralph. "It is pretty depressing to consider the fact that he's going to rule this kingdom one day."

"I threatened to kill him!" Heero practically shouted. "I gagged him and I kidnapped him and I threatened to kill him!"

Trowa laughed at the look of pure horror on Heero's face. He quickly covered it with a cough.

"I think, all things considered –"

"I assaulted my future king. I gave him a black eye – and I would have done more if you hadn't pulled me off him."

"Thank the Gods for me, then," Trowa muttered. He sighed when Heero continued to look ready to kill himself. "Heero, in the grand scheme of things, that was nothing. And he deserved it. He's got a shitty attitude and he has no respect for…" Trowa stopped talking as he started to think about just _why_ Duo had just as depressed as Heero now did.

Duo had known, all of his life, that he was the Theran prince. Trowa had seen the recognition in his eyes when Gregory spoke. Duo had known, and he had never come forward. He had instead chosen to live the life of a bandit, an outlaw and criminal by both Theran and Mysian counts. Duo had lived with rebels, had buried their bodies with as much tenderness as though THEY were his family. The boy had been taken before the Mysian Inquisition and he had killed the Inquisitor. He spoke of the Theran's with only marginally less hatred than the Mysians.

Duo didn't want to be the crown prince of Thera.

Trowa sighed and made a mental note to ask Heero to post extra guards by the stables and the entrances to the palace. He was willing to bet his favorite bow that the boy would try to escape, if not tonight, then surely before sunrise the next day.

* * *

He finally persuaded Heero that had hadn't done worse damage to his family's reputation by nearly punching out the crown prince, and they had a leisurely soak in the tub followed by some vigorous scrubbing to get completely clean.

It was an hour before the evening meal was to be served when Trowa and Heero made their way to the Winter Garden to meet the King.

Heero was back in his Royal Guard uniform – not the ornate dress uniform of the Captain of the Guards, but the more sedate and work ready quilted blue breeches and doublet, paired with his knee high black, suede boots.

Trowa had felt obligated to dress in something more appropriate than his usual Sentinel garb, and had rounded up a page to fetch his own court clothing from the quarters that he rarely visited. Trowa all but lived with Heero when he visited the soldier – at least he had since the Theran had first been promoted to Lieutenant. Not even Trowa was willing to share a bunk with the man when he had been in the common barracks.

His own quarters in the palace were no doubt actually covered in a fine layer of dust. Trowa visited Thera often enough, but he only ever spent long periods of time in Antioch during the winter months.

Fashion had never been one of his interests, and Trowa's wardrobe was simple, if well tailored, and he wore a green velvet doublet and matching breeches and hose for the evening. It felt strange not to be in the warm long trousers and rough jacket of a Sentinel, but it was also a relief to be in clean clothes of any kind.

Both Gregory and Solo were waiting for them, and the prince had a troubled look on his face when Trowa and Heero approached.

"What's wrong with him?" Solo asked before they had even bowed.

Trowa looked at Heero, but the soldier merely arched an eyebrow, indicating that Trowa should do the talking. He sighed.

"He's been gone for fifteen years," he pointed out, "I'm sure this is all a bit of a…shock to him."

Gregory frowned.

"But _why_ was he gone for fifteen years? Why did he never return to us?"

Trowa had to give the man credit for realizing that Duo had known exactly who he was.

"I'm not sure he was able," Heero spoke up. He ignored Trowa's eye roll and continued. "He knew who he was – obviously he recognized you, my King. But he has lived nearly his entire life outside this kingdom, among rebels and free workers struggling to survive under Mysian terror. I think by the time he _could_ have returned to us he felt that he had a purpose _there_."

It wasn't an argument Trowa had considered, but it seemed logical. Duo truly had believed in his cause of fighting the Mysians.

Gregory sighed.

"Fine," Solo said, "but what the hell is _wrong_ with him? He doesn't speak! At all! Do you have any idea how unnatural that is?"

Trowa smirked. Solo was infamous for not being able to stand long silences, and the prince had thrown both Trowa and Heero out of his presence more than once for not talking enough.

"He talks," Heero muttered. "Just give him a chance."

Trowa's lips twitched, but Heero's glare made him refrain from commenting further.

Gregory sighed. "What has he been doing for the last fifteen years? Where has he been?"

"It seems that he's spent most of his life in the Western Wood. He was an acolyte."

Solo's eyes narrowed.

"He was a _what_? I thought those were just rumors!"

Trowa shook his head. "Apparently not."

"What temple?" Gregory asked.

"The God of Death."

"But he never took orders," Gregory mused. "At least we are fortunate in that."

"Fortunate!" Solo shouted. "He was an acolyte serving those shriveled old men for the gods only know how long. You know what this means, don't you? He's probably a virgin!"

Trowa was amused by Solo's outrage.

"A condition that can easily be rectified," he pointed out.

Solo glared. "This is a serious matter."

"Not one of life or death," Trowa argued.

"You aren't religious – neither of you – and you never had to study those damned treatises on the gods like I did," Solo muttered, " the followers of the God of Death don't believe in indulging in the flesh. Their acolytes are taught to _never_ commit sins of the flesh, or they will go straight to hell and be punished for eternity by the God of Death."

"He didn't take orders," Heero reminded Solo.

The blonde prince shook his head. "But how _long_ was he an acolyte? How much did they warp his brain? What if he – what if he _believed_ them? The future king of Thera cannot remain celibate – he _has_ to have heirs."

"He's been here for less than a day," Trowa pointed out. "I think we're borrowing trouble here. It's true that he didn't try to jump either Heero or myself as we slept, but that isn't any indication that he despises sex – or that he's a virgin."

Solo still looked unsettled, but Gregory rose a hand to silence his son.

"What else?"

"The Mysians have been after him for at least a month, they want to apprehend him for killing the Inquisitor. So, it stands to reason that he had to face the Inquisition at some point – especially if he was an acolyte." Trowa wasn't trying too hard to picture the details surrounding Duo and the Inquisition, he was confident it would not be a pleasant story, if the rest of the boy's existence was anything to go on.

"How did you find him?" Solo asked.

Trowa and Heero exchanged uneasy looks. Trowa wasn't particuraly keen to tell the King that his son had been a highwayman, but he was even less eager to share the story of finding Duo in the middle of burying slaughtered free workers. It felt wrong, somehow, and Trowa was disturbed by his own desire to protect that side of Duo.

"He found us, actually," Heero spoke into the awkward silence. "He and Trowa had met previously, so he decided to tail us when he spotted us traveling through the Western Wood. He confronted us at the rebel camp."

Gregory nodded and stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

"This will not be easy for him, I think. It's clear he's an intelligent boy – but he has much to learn. When the Mysians learn that he has returned to us, there will be hell to pay."

"At least we have the winter months to prepare for battle in the spring," Solo pointed out. "That should be plenty of time to reacquaint Duo with Thera and his duties."

Trowa wasn't so sure, but he knew that arguing with the two Therans would only create discord. At the very least, Gregory and Solo deserved the chance to celebrate the return of the long lost prince.

"He's a cunning fighter," Trowa offered, feeling the need to say _something_ positive.

Solo snorted. "We need him to be a cunning politician, but that's something." He smirked. "Perhaps he'll compete in the tournament?" He looked to his father. "You and Uncle used to compete against each other in tournaments."

Gregory laughed. "And I used to embarrass him every time. Careful, son, or your younger brother may do just the same."

* * *

Trowa woke two hours before dawn, and the chill of the early morning air almost convinced him to stay in the warm bed, wrapped around Heero.

They hadn't gone to be until late – Solo had insisted they go out drinking to celebrate Duo's homecoming, even if his younger brother declined the offer to go with them – and the winter winds were fierce enough that the first snows had started to fall that evening.

He finally convinced himself to rise and dressed in the darkness. He pulled on his oilskin cloak over his clothes and tucked his sword and scabbard under it. Life had taught him never to be too complacent, and he didn't want to wander around unarmed.

The battlements were bitterly cold, and Trowa stayed in the stony heights only long enough to see the sun peak over the northern mountains.

Long enough to catch sight of a distant figure sneaking out of the main palace and sprinting across the courtyard to the Royal stables.

Trowa cursed when he spotted the boy –for who else _could_ it be at this hour – and made record time sprinting through the palace corridors.

He reached the stables more than a little winded, but the boy was still there, working to saddle his horse.

"Going somewhere?" Trowa asked once he had regained his breath. He leaned against the opposite stall and crossed his arms, adopting an unconcerned air.

Duo looked up at him, momentarily startled before he masked it with anger.

"There a law against that here?" The boy demanded.

"Against the crown prince leaving the palace? No."

"Then yeah, I'm going somewhere."

Trowa waited until the boy had finished securing the saddle and climbed over the broad back of his horse. He took a moment to admire the animal, and he wondered just how Duo had come across her. She was clearly of good stock, and her black coat was flecked with white patches that lent her a resemblance to many Sentinel mounts.

"Might be a bit hard," Trowa called after him, "considering that the guards won't let you out of the courtyard."

Duo's shoulders slumped and he turned to glare at Trowa.

"You _just_ said there was no –"

"There isn't a law," Trowa interrupted, "but the Captain of the Royal Guard gave all of his men very explicit orders that they weren't to let you out of the courtyard unless he was with you."

The boy swore.

"You meddling bastards, just let me _go_."

"Why? You're here now – restored to the bosom of your family, destined for a life of luxury. Why would you want to go?"

"Because this," Duo waved an arm to indicate the stables and the palace – maybe all of Thera, "is nothing but the sweat and blood of free workers. I'm not going to sit here in some damned ivory tower while innocent people are being butchered. You stupid Therans –"

"I'm no Theran," Trowa corrected him quickly.

Duo sneered. "Whatever. _Those_ stupid Therans think that me being here is that important?"

"It _is_ that important," Trowa corrected him. "When the Mysians had you kidnapped fifteen years ago it crippled this kingdom. Ever since, the Mysians have been growing more powerful. _They_ are the ones who've been butchering innocents. But now you have a chance to change all of that. With you here, Solo can lead the Theran armies against the Mysians and beat them back to their own territory."

"Yeah, and I'm sure all the free workers who get conscripted into the Theran army are going to have a lovely time fighting a war for a man who doesn't give a shit about them. The Mysians aren't the only ones who butcher people – and if you really think the Therans are the good guys you're more of an idiot than I thought you were."

And the boy was clearly more jaded than Trowa had realized.

"Not to mention all the innocent people who get caught between the two armies. And what happens if you _do_ manage to beat back the Mysians? Think they'll see the error of their ways and start to free their slaves and respect the free workers rights to work their own land?"

"And what are _you_ going to do that makes you so pure and heroic?" Trowa snapped.

"Pure? Heroic? I've never claimed to be either. But at least if I'm the one out there doing the work, no one else has to die for me." The look on Duo's face made it clear that he hadn't meant to say the last part.

Trowa could understand that sentiment. It was, after all, what had driven him to join the Sentinels in the first place seventeen years ago.

"And just how long do you think you can survive out there on your own? How much good can _you_ do?"

"I killed the Inquisitor, didn't I? The palace wasn't that hard to get out of, I'm sure I could find my way back in."

"You against three hundred of the Mysian guard? I think you've lost your grip on reality. You could barely keep up with _me_ , and I'm one man. Even if I'm guided by the gods," he added with a sneer. "If you think so little of Thera – of your father and your brother – then why not stay here and change things? You're concerned about the free workers? So protect them. If you attack the Mysians – even if you succeed in your crazy scheme – what do you think will happen? Think they'll just give up?" Trowa shook his head. "Or is it more likely that they'll revert to their usual methods and try to destroy the free workers will to rebel? For every Mysian that _you_ , the rebel Duo Maxwell, kills – the Mysians will kill fifty free workers. Or have you already forgotten what that pile of corpses smelled like? Then again, maybe they didn't mean anything to you. Your god likes dead bodies, doesn't he? So maybe you _want_ to be the reason little kids die? Maybe -"

The boy was off the horse in a flash and had tackled Trowa to the ground. His fists were clenched in the fabric of Trowa's cloak and his slight weight pinned Trowa to the ground between his legs, but he made no move to attack him.

Trowa watched as Duo drew in deep, shuddering breaths.

"As a prince of Thera you can ensure that a nineteen year old boy doesn't have to bury the remains of a massacre on his own again," Trowa continued, his voice gentle. "You can make it so that Thera and Mysia aren't the same. You can build a future for the free workers."

Duo closed his eyes and shook his head, but a moment later he eased away from Trowa, releasing him and moving to sit on the ground beside him. He drew his knees up to his chest, and he looked impossibly young and fragile.

But Trowa knew him well enough by now to know that Duo Maxwell was anything but fragile, and however young he was, he had still lived through things that most men wouldn't experience in five lifetimes, let alone fifteen years.

"Did they send you to convince me to stay?" Duo eventually asked.

"I sent myself."

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Duo asked. "You aren't just a Sentinel – they all bowed before the King, but you didn't even nod."

"Stick around long enough and you might figure it out," Trowa told him. He rose to his feet and brushed off his clothing.

He grabbed the horse's reigns and guided her back to the empty stall and started to remove her tack and saddle.

"You saved my life, before," Duo said from his position on the floor.

"I did." Trowa agreed. He wasn't about to burden the boy with a life debt, but he wasn't above letting the boy convince himself that he owned it to Trowa to stay.

"Damn it." Duo stood up and started out of the stables.

"Where are you going?" Trowa called after him. He had thought he was on the verge of staying – not changing his plan to escape on foot.

"I've got an appointment with the royal tailor," the boy growled. "If I'm staying I'll need some damn clothes to wear – since Solo nearly had a panic attack when he saw what I was wearing yesterday."

Trowa smirked at that. Solo, unlike the company he kept, was a devotee of fashion and clothing. Trowa had never met a man so deadly with a blade and yet so obsessed with what color velvet best set off his hair.

"He's a good man," Trowa called after him.

Duo's shoulders stiffened as though Trowa had physically assaulted him.

"Pure and heroic and all of that shit, huh?"

Before Trowa could say anything, Duo stalked off.

He might have convinced the boy to stay, but Trowa was willing to bet that the winter would thaw into spring before the Duo warmed to his fate.

* * *

Up next: Celebrations

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N #1: So, this is me, which means that Trowa and Duo are going to be involved. There will be more pairings, but I'd really rather let them develop than paste them all over this.

A/N #2: The POV will switch between characters – likely MOSTLY between Heero, Duo, and Trowa.

A/N #3: I'm not sure if anyone even reads these things, BUT, if anyone out there does: can I offer/request a challenge/trade? This fic was supposed to be a Tangled/Rapunzel thing, but it was immediately derailed – for the good. However, I really love the idea of a 2x3 Rapunzel fic. So… if anyone out there loves me and wants to write one, I will gladly accept any challenge you want to offer me. Seriously, I will write any GW fic you want me to - AU, canon, 1x2, 3x4, 1xR for that matter (although, seriously, please no?). Anyway… all you writers out there, give it a thought?

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Five

Duo had never slept well. For as long as he could remember he had been plagued with nightmares. As a child – and even in the rebel camp some nights – he often woke up screaming.

And now he had another fifty faces to add to those who haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.

The first few days of his return to Thera had passed in a blur. Once Trowa had convinced him to stay, Duo had made an effort to study his surroundings. He spent the daylight hours trailing after Solo or Gregory, meeting courtiers and officials, but he couldn't bring himself to talk much with either man. There was simply too much Duo wanted to say, and he was afraid that even polite small talk would open the floodgates.

But the nights he spent on his own, wandering the palace corridors and discovering secret passages. His third night back he discovered the Royal Archives, and the echoing stacks were the only place in the entire palace that he felt at home.

He wandered the towers of books until he figured out the cataloging system, and then he pulled out a stack of books on the Sentinels and buried himself in them.

It was very late when he heard voices and saw the flickering light of a lantern moving through another part of the Archives. He immediately blew out his candle and waited, heartbeat thundering.

He wouldn't put it past Heero to have sent his guards to track him down in the middle of the night – the Captain had ordered his men to escort Duo everywhere on the palace grounds, and he even had two guards posted around the clock at his chambers.

But as the lantern approached, Duo could make out two voices, and neither belonged to Heero – or Trowa.

"… voice is the only thing that quiets her, " a woman was saying.

"Him," a man said.

"No, our daughter is _not_ a 'him' and you need to accept that fact, Wufei. Hm, how about the farming treatise of Aripo? That should be put her right to sleep."

"Very well, wait here."

There were footsteps, and then the lantern came closer. Duo cursed as he realized that the bizarre archival system had placed the history of the Sentinels on the same row as Agricultural history. He scrambled to his feet, but was too late.

The lantern light washed over him and Duo froze.

"Good evening, Prince Duo."

He didn't recognize the man, but Duo didn't recognize _anyone_ among the palace courtiers yet. The man was a few years older than Duo, and his exotic features were curtained by loose, shoulder length black hair.

"Er, hello."

The man smirked.

"Reading in the dark?"

"Yeah, you know, trying to keep my eyes sharp…" Duo scratched at the back of his neck.

"I'll leave you to it, then," the man said and pulled out a slim volume from a shelf. "Just be sure to put those back when you're done? I'd hate to think that you have as little respect for books as your brother does."

"Oh, no, of course." Duo quickly reshelved the books, and the two men stood looking at each other.

"If you're having trouble sleeping, my wife assures me that the sound of my voice puts anyone to sleep – even our unborn child who insists on dancing in her belly all night."

Duo frowned. He didn't know who this man was, but he certainly wasn't a member of the Royal Guard, or a Sentinel, or any of the dozens of courtiers he had been introduced to over the last few days.

"Who are you?" Duo asked, but nevertheless followed him out of the row.

"I am Wufei Chang, and this is my wife, Meilin."

He placed the lantern down on one of the long research tables and it illuminated the features of a woman just as exotic looking as Wufei.

"Good evening, prince," she said, and her tone was more amused than patronizing.

"But… _who_ are you?" Duo wasn't sure he wanted to hear a bedtime story from one of his father or brother's cronies.

"I'm one of the few remaining hostage princes," Wufei said, looking slightly amused, "as is my wife."

"Hostage princes?" Duo sat down across from Meilin.

"Hm. You probably don't know about us – you were too young, and I doubt palace gossip filtered as far out as the Western Wood."

Duo arched an eyebrow. To his knowledge, no one outside of the Heero, Trowa and his Sentinels, and Gregory and Solo had connected Duo to the rebel he had been.

"The kingdoms of Hellas have long been at war with one another," Wufei started.

"Tell me something I don't know," Duo muttered.

"The sheer tonnage of what I know that you don't is staggering, I wouldn't even know where to start," Wufei mused, a concerned look on his face.

Duo was momentarily startled, and then he laughed.

It felt like the first time he had laughed in years. He had to wipe tears from his eyes and catch his breath.

"Oh, you're funny."

Wufei's lips twitched upwards.

"Don't encourage him," Meilin muttered, but she shot Wufei a fond look.

"But these hostage princes?" Duo prompted after a moment.

"Yes. Gregory decided that he would try to build alliances with several kingdoms, and cow his enemies by taking the kingdoms princes as hostages. So, the two eldest children from every royal family were… _invited_ … to grow up at this court. It started after Solo was born, and most of the princes were his companions growing up. However, a few of us didn't come along until later – closer to your birth. Meilin and myself are only a few months older than you."

"Pretty young to be starting a family," Duo pointed out.

"We… let's just say that our kingdoms have been at war for even longer than the Mysians and the Therans. Getting married and having a child was the only way for us to prove that we loved each other and would _not_ be separated."

Wufei reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"So what happened? Did the idea work?"

"Do you s _ee_ Thera surrounded by allies?" Wufei asked. He sighed. "Like many brilliant ideas, it was a complete failure. The Mysians refused to hand over Milardo, the eldest royal child, so Gregory had him abducted. When Relena was born he did the same. Even Thera's allies didn't like the idea of handing their children over. Only Kos and Ios willingly sent their children to this court. They understood what Gregory was trying to do – he wanted the children raised together so that as adults they would remember their childhood friends and hesitate to go to war. He also wanted to ensure that _his_ children held sway over all others."

"By the time _you_ were born," Meilin continued, "all of the kingdoms – except for Kos and Ios of course – were ready to declare war in order to get their children back. The Mysians actually did declare war, but it took four years for them to figure out that the best way to get _their_ children back was to take Gregory's. So they hired mercenaries who stole back Milardo and Relena, and also took you."

"Yeah, I remember that part," Duo muttered.

Wufei arched an eyebrow, but continued. "In any case, after that, most of the princes were allowed to go back to their kingdoms. The prince of Ios remained, and the prince of Kos – Sylvia, and both myself and Meilin."

"Why?" Duo asked. "Why did the two of you stay?"

"Well, we were five at the time, so it wasn't so much OUR choice," Meilin pointed out. "But our kingdoms were at war with each other and… they rather forgot about us. By the time they remembered that their future rulers were still hostages in Thera they had nearly wiped each other out, and Wufei and I decided we didn't want to return."

"So… who's ruling?"

"Our parents are still alive. Maybe in a few years, once they understand that they are missing out on their grandchildren, they will understand that we have infinitely more in common than we have apart." She tossed her hair over one shoulder. "Gregory has given us leave to stay here as long as we desire."

"What about Kos and Ios? I don't even know where Ios is – and I can't believe the Sentinels would allow their future Queen to be raised away from them."

"You don't know where Ios is because it doesn't exist anymore. They Mysians invaded two years before your birth and they destroyed everything. Ios was a small kingdom, just an island in the Southern Sea, and the Mysians enslaved the free workers, slaughtered the royal family, and salted the lands. There's nothing left there. The entire island is abandoned. One massive grave." Wufei shook his head. "Anyway, when the Mysians invaded Ios, the Sentinels decided they'd had enough of Sylvia being raised in Thera and they demanded their future queen be returned to them. The prince of Ios went with her." Wufei shrugged. "And that was that."

Duo frowned. He wanted to accuse Gregory of inciting massive destruction and destroying Thera's allies, but he had to admit that the idea had been a good one, and he wished that it had worked out better than it had.

"At least we still have Kos as an ally," Duo muttered.

"We? So you won't be abandoning Thera to go back to wandering the Western Wood as an outlaw?" Meilin asked.

"No, I'm staying." Duo propped his head up with one hand. "I'm just… I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do."

Wufei and Meilin exchanged glances.

"I'm sure that Solo and Gregory will –"

"I don't care what _they_ want me to do! I'm not going to be some idiot on a throne who just sits back while Solo goes off and wrecks havoc. I'm not going to allow more innocent people to die just so he can finally feel like he's a warrior or whatever. I just don't know what _else_ I can do."

"We could… help you," Wufei said slowly. "We know the customs of Thera better than most, and –"

"And what Wufei is _trying_ to say, is that he knows literally _everything_ and if you want someone to teach you how to get around whatever Solo and Gregory have planned for you, he's the best advisor you could hope for."

"And you?" Duo asked.

She shrugged.

"I'm one of a handful of people who can actually defeat Solo in armed combat." She rubbed her rounded belly. "Not at the moment, of course. I can teach you exactly how your brother thinks, and I can teach you how to defeat him."

Duo frowned. "I don't want to fight him. I just don't want to be their puppet."

"Exactly," Meilin agreed, "which is why you need to compete in the tournament and defeat him. Prove to Solo that you aren't the poor, starved rebel that you look and that you're worth taking notice of. Show both he and Gregory that you have a will and strength to rival their own. It's the quickest way to earn their respect. You need to enter the duel and win."

"Okay," Duo said after thinking it over for a few minutes. "I'm in. Teach me."

* * *

Duo spent as much of the next three days as he could in their company – meeting Meilin in the courtyard for fencing lessons early in the morning, sitting with Wufei for hours in the afternoon learning the recent history of Thera, and just how the kingdom had changed since he had been kidnapped, and evenings talking strategy with both of them.

It managed to give his days meaning, and he appreciated the fact that he no longer woke up each day at dawn and contemplated running away. Yes, Trowa had convinced him to stay, but everything since that day had shown him only that his initial instinct to run had been correct. Now, Meilin and Wufei were giving him the hope that he COULD change things, and he was grateful.

He had seen little of Trowa or Heero since their return, only catching sight of them at random times- meals, in passing in the corridors, or often one or both of them in Solo's company.

It was more than a little irritating that the only two people in the entire kingdom who knew _anything_ about Duo were, in fact, friends of his brother. He knew it was ridiculous to be jealous – after all, it wasn't as if the two were amazing conversationalists, or even had much respect for Duo.

But he wouldn't have minded the opportunity to look at them more. There was something about the way that they moved that he couldn't keep his eyes off of them. Duo was convinced they were the most beautiful men he had ever seen, and maybe it was just a need to punish himself, but he wanted to be near them, to soak in their golden beauty.

He eventually got his wish the evening before the tournament. He was in the middle of his usual evening wanderings, before he planned to meet Wufei and Meilin in the archives, when he came across the two of them in the Winter Garden.

They had set up a ring of lanterns that Duo estimated to be roughly the same size as the circle that competitors would use the following day. Meilin had explained to him that the two opponents would fight until one was forced from the ring, or was faced with a killing blow. The duel would use wooden blades, but Heero and Trowa were practicing with the real thing.

Duo crept close enough to get a good view, and spent the next hour watching as they seemed to dance around each other. It seemed that both were anticipating the moves of the other, and the fluid way they reacted made it clear that they had done this countless times before. It was hard to see which man had the advantage, and Duo wasn't sure that either one did.

Eventually they stopped, coming to some mutual, silent agreement and stepping back from each other.

Trowa was sheathing his sword when Duo started to creep away.

"Leaving so soon?" Trowa called out.

Duo froze in his tracks and then turned and walked towards them, adopting an air of casual indifference.

"No point in staying to watch if you're done," he said.

"I'm going to assume that the guards at your door have no idea you aren't in your quarters," Heero said with a sigh.

Duo sneered. "Don't worry, they're just as clueless as they have been every night this week. I'm telling you, with guards this poorly trained it's no wonder I was kidnapped in the first place."

He saw Heero flinch and he frowned at the look of anguish on his face.

"The deficiency is entirely my fault," Heero said, his voice terse. He glanced at Trowa and then back at Duo. "Thank you for the criticism, my prince." He bowed to Duo and then stalked out of the garden.

"What's with him? It was a joke!" Duo looked after the Captain in dismay.

"His father died trying to defend you from the mercenaries who kidnapped you," Trowa said, his voice mild. Duo watched as the Sentinel doused each of the lanterns save for one, which he used to light the path as he walked to Duo. "And Heero takes his duties very seriously. They aren't a joke to him. You marauding about the castle because it amuses you is one thing – but consider that Mysia WILL send assassins after you, and Heero can't protect you if he doesn't know where you are."

"I can protect myself," Duo assured him, but he felt a wave of guilt. He hadn't meant to insult Heero.

"Yes. Clearly." Trowa's gaze was shadowed in the dim light of the lantern, but Duo could make out the censure in his eyes. "Far be it from me to disagree with a prince. Who I've _twice_ taken captive."

"I guess it's a good thing that Kos is our ally, then," Duo muttered.

"Indeed." Trowa sighed. "You can't sleep, can you?"

Duo started to argue, but the look in Trowa's eyes told him that the Sentinel wasn't going to use the information against him.

"No," he sighed. "These damn feather beds are too soft."

Trowa nodded. "Makes it too easy to dream."

"Yeah, gods I see their faces as soon as I close my eyes and..." Duo shook his head. He couldn't believe he was talking about this with the near-stranger.

"Those rebels you buried?"

"Them and others. I could go the rest of my life without seeing another body and be a happy man."

Trowa sighed. "We didn't tell them about the massacre."

"Thanks for that."

"You should, though. They deserve to know about the life you've led."

"They _deserve_? They _deserve_ to know that I was responsible for the deaths of fifty innocents? They _deserve_ to know that I've –" Duo cut himself off and shook his head. He wasn't about to stand here and spill his sorry life story to Trowa. No matter how much he seemed to actually care about Duo, he was still Solo's, still a believer in the Theran cause – and Duo couldn't share those dark secrets with a man he didn't trust. "They don't deserve shit," he finished and stormed off.

* * *

Duo entered the outer hall the next morning feeling vaguely nauseated. He didn't know if it was nerves – he was terrified of being a complete embarrassment to himself, Wufei, and Meilin – or if his lack of sleep was finally catching up to him. Either way, it was an effort to greet Gregory and Solo with anything approaching politeness, and enthusiasm was impossible.

Gregory's throne had been moved to a small dais overlooking the outer hall, and a ring of white chalk had been drawn on the marble to indicate the playing field for the tournament duels.

It seemed that most of the court had assembled to see the tournament. The duel was open to anyone who cared to enter, but Meilin had warned him that the field would be a narrow one – Solo, Trowa, and Heero were notorious warriors and over the years, in various tournaments like this one, they had developed a reputation of horribly embarrassing their competitors.

The herald standing beside Gregory announced that twenty eight warriors had entered the field, and that he, Duo would be the first to compete – and against Ralph.

Duo met the Sentinel in the ring and grinned.

Ralph smirked.

"This should be fun," Ralph promised.

"Looking forward to it," Duo agreed.

The fight was over all too quickly, however – Duo was able to trick the Sentinel into stepping outside the circle within five minutes through a series of feints that left the Sentinel stumbling backwards until he tripped and fell over, outside the circle, onto his back.

There was good natured laughter from the court, and Duo chuckled as he helped the Sentinel back to his feet.

Ralph shook his head.

" _That_ was embarrassing," he muttered.

"Maybe you and your leader should start a club of Sentinel's I've embarrassed," Duo suggested.

Ralph looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he sighed and held out his hand.

Duo shook it.

"We'll have to have a rematch sometime," Duo suggested.

"You're on," Ralph promised.

Duo retired to the side of the hall and stood with Wufei and Meilin.

"Well done," Meilin congratulated him. "You ended it too soon for anyone to see what your fighting style is really like – and that's your main advantage against Trowa, Heero, and Solo."

They watched as the rest of the first round concluded, and then Duo was called up again to face a new opponent.

The man he faced this time had short, dark hair and dark eyes that sparked with challenge. His opponent looked even younger and slighter than Duo and was dressed in baggy canvas trousers and a loose shirt that was belted at the waist.

The boy bowed to Duo and then immediately started to attack, battling Duo to almost the edge of the circle within just a few steps.

Duo had to sidestep a blow to even remain on his feet, and he followed through on the motion and turned around behind his opponent, prepared to attack from the rear, but the boy turned and met Duo's blow with his wooden sword.

He had to move quickly to avoid a counter-attack, and they spent the next few minutes dancing across the circle, both battling for the upper hand and neither able to get the advantage over the other.

Finally, however, Duo was able to slip in under the boy's guard and delivered a blow to his wrist that sent the boy's sword flying out of the circle.

The boy looked ready to continue the fight even without his weapon, so Duo simply thrust his sword into against his chest, right above his heart.

Duo's eyes widened as he encountered soft flesh.

"You're a girl?"

The boy – or girl sneered.

"Yes, _obviously_."

Duo blinked in surprise, and then he grinned.

"Good fight."

She looked furious for a moment, but then she returned his grin.

"It was," she agreed. "I'm Hilde Schiebeker."

"An honor to meet you." Duo dropped his sword to his side and gave her a short bow.

"Likewise," she assured him and bowed lower.

She left the circle, and Duo retreated back to the side again.

"Who is she?" He asked Meilin and Wufei.

"Trouble," Wufei assured him.

Duo started to ask for more details, but then Trowa and Solo stepped into the circle.

Their fight was long, and it was clear that they were as used to each other's moves as Trowa and Heero were, and it looked more like a choreographed dance than a duel. By the time it was over, Duo was in awe of both men. Solo won by forcing Trowa out of the circle, but the duel had been close enough that Duo was sure that, if they were to fight again, Trowa could just as easily win.

Heero's fight was less evenly matched – he faced one of his Lieutenants, and the fight was over before it barely started. Heero moved fast to disarm the other soldier and had him at sword point barely three minutes into the fight.

Duo whistled in appreciation, and then groaned in despair when the herald announced that _he_ would face Heero next.

"Good luck," Meilin muttered as Duo moved to the circle.

"You'll need it," Wufei added.

"Thanks." Duo glared at the man, but he only shrugged.

Heero bowed to him, looking vaguely uneasy at the prospect of facing Duo. He once again felt a wave of guilt for his careless comment last night, and he wished that he could apologize for it. Somehow he doubted the proud soldier would be willing to accept any apology from him, however.

They started slow, cautiously circling one another and testing out their movements.

But suddenly Heero changed the pace and started to strike out, forcing Duo to fall to defense.

Heero almost managed to force Duo out of the circle, but then Duo sidestepped a blow and used his momentum to lash out and change their footing, forcing Heero to fall back and put up his guard.

One of Duo's blows swung just a little too wide, and Heero managed to push in, closing the distance between them and grabbing Duo's sword arm.

Duo caught the momentary hesitation in Heero's eyes and he snarled.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ let me win!"

He jerked free and shoved his shoulder against Heero's chest, sending the other man staggering back a few feet.

With a few furious slashes of his sword he managed to beat Heero back to the edge of the circle and then lashed out, landing a solid kick into his gut, and sent the soldier sprawling out of the circle.

There was a moment of stunned silence from the on-lookers, and then wild cheering.

Duo approached the other man and held out his hand.

Heero looked at the hand as though contemplating whether or not it was a trick, but then he accepted it.

Duo pulled him back up to his feet.

"I don't want anyone to die for me," Duo said, "but I'd be damned happy to have you fight alongside me."

"It will be an honor to serve you," Heero responded.

He sighed.

"Just don't try to punch me again," he muttered.

Heero's lips twitched, and then he burst out laughing. Duo had to smile along with him, a bit taken aback by just how rich the soldier's laugh was, and how attractive he looked when he was smiling.

"But the gag?"

"Try it," Duo dared him.

Heero smirked and then bowed to him before moving off.

"It seems that the two princes of Thera are the last warriors standing," Gregory spoke up.

The king was smiling, and looked to be enjoying himself just as much as if _he_ had won Duo's fight.

"The final match will be held this afternoon," the herald announced.

Duo watched as the courtiers trickled from the hall, no doubt to take part in the midday feasting before returning to watch him fight Solo.

He saw Heero and Trowa walk out together and felt a momentary flash of envy. They had an easy companionship born of years of trust – and no doubt years of sex – and Duo realized that he had NEVER had that. He had never known anyone long enough to feel that comfortable around them.

Wufei and Meilin approached him.

"You did well," the scholar informed him.

Duo smirked.

"I fought dirty."

Wufei shrugged. "Yes, but there are no rules against it. It seems only logical to use any weapons at your disposal – including your feet. Come, let's get lunch and Meilin can tell you all about Solo's weaknesses."

His wife gave Duo a predatory grin.

"If I can't fight, at least I can help you beat him." She ran a hand over her rounded belly. "At least, if I train hard enough, I will be able to compete in the summer Hellas games."

The Hellas games were, Duo had always thought, the clear demonstration of just how insane the Therans and Mysians truly were. For one month every summer they – and all of the neighboring kingdoms – set aside their conflicts and sent their best warriors to compete in a series of games. Duo had never attended them – the priests at the temple felt they were a ridiculous waste of time, and since the entire event was dedicated to the God of Life, it was an insult to their own god – but as a child he had dreamed of winning them. It was a dream he had long ago abandoned. It was ridiculous to fight for sport, and he felt more than a little disgusted by the tournament he was currently engaged in.

Duo followed Meilin and Wufei as they skirted the crowd moving towards the Great Hall and instead went directly through the kitchens. Wufei prepared a basket of food, while Duo grabbed a bottle of cider and three glasses.

They made their way to the Winter Garden, and Duo was grateful for the peaceful atmosphere and the company of the married couple.

"He outweighs you by at least fifty pounds," Meilin said after they had all settled down and started to eat.

"And he's about six inches taller than me," Duo muttered.

"So you have a much lower center of gravity – use it to your advantage."

Duo nodded thoughtfully.

"I noticed when he was fighting Trowa that he doesn't watch his back too well."

Meilin nodded.

"Yes – it's one of his few weaknesses. He never seems to think that an opponent would dare to strike him from behind. He's too… honorable, I suppose, but really it's just stupidity. The only honor in a battle is winning it."

Wufei snorted.

"That isn't true and you know it – _you_ above all others know that the _way_ the battle is won is the only path to honor."

She shrugged. "If we're talking about a war, then yes, but personal combat – the very nature of it suggests that the individual is –"

"No, no, you're completely wrong. If –"

"Hey!" Duo interrupted their argument. "You two can fight about this later, for now… let's just focus on the important issue here. Me."

Wufei rolled his eyes, but Meilin grinned and returned to planning out the battle.

* * *

By the time that the crowd had reassembled after lunch, Duo felt confident that, at the very least, he wouldn't make a fool of himself.

Facing off against his brother was… not something Duo had ever dreamed of doing. Then again, he had thought he would never see him again.

He knew that it wasn't fair, but he just couldn't seem to forgive either Gregory or Solo, and he desperately needed this chance to show at least Solo just how angry he was.

The herald called the court to order, and Gregory gave his blessing on the fight.

The two brothers bowed to each other, and Solo had barely risen when Duo lashed out, immediately forcing him on the defensive.

Solo meet his every strike and lunge with elegant parries, but Duo refused to give him the opportunity to attack. He knew that Solo outweighed him, and if he allowed the other man any advantage, the fight would quickly turn and he would be faced with defeat.

He could tell that Solo wasn't taking this entirely seriously – he was smirking slightly, as if the entire affair was an indulgence for his little brother – and that only drove Duo to more aggression.

Duo feinted another blow to Solo's front guard before dropping to the ground and rolling behind him, he came up and, before Solo had a chance to turn, delivered a stinging blow to Solo's spine with the flat of his wooden blade.

Solo hissed in pain, and when he turned to face Duo there was a determined look in his eyes.

"Ready to take me seriously?" Duo taunted him.

Solo didn't answer, but instead adopted a lower guard and delivered a series of lunges that Duo barely managed to parry in time. The last one he had to block with his forearm, and the force of the blow had him staggering back.

"I take every fight seriously," Solo assured him.

Duo sneered and lunged forward, landing a solid hit against Solo's side before Solo body checked him and sent him sprawling to the ground.

He lunged for his sword, but Solo stomped down on the wooden blade just as he lifted it and it splintered in two.

Duo jerked it free and rolled out of the way to avoid the swing of Solo's still intact sword.

He lashed out with his legs, scissoring them between Solo's, and sending the other man flying onto his back.

Duo leapt to his feet and kicked Solo's sword out of his hand. He held his own broken sword at Solo's throat, resting one jagged edge against his jugular vein.

He waited until he had Solo's full attention and the prince's furious eyes were focused on his.

"You said you'd find me," he said, careful to make sure his voice didn't carry. "You _promised_ you'd never lose me."

The anger and humiliation went out of Solo's eyes.

Duo swallowed against his own emotions.

"I waited, every day, for ten years. I waited for you to find me. But the Mysians found me first, Solo. _They_ kept their promise and they had their revenge."

Duo tossed aside his sword and turned to face Gregory. He bowed to the king, and then he walked out of the room, a wave of gossip following him.

* * *

Up Next: Heero has to deal with TWO angry princes.

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Chapter 6**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N #1: So, this is me, which means that Trowa and Duo are going to be involved. There will be more pairings, but I'd really rather let them develop than paste them all over this.

A/N #2: The POV will switch between characters – likely MOSTLY between Heero, Duo, and Trowa.

A/N #3: I'm not sure if anyone even reads these things, BUT, if anyone out there does: can I offer/request a challenge/trade? This fic was supposed to be a Tangled/Rapunzel thing, but it was immediately derailed – for the good. However, I really love the idea of a 2x3 Rapunzel fic. So… if anyone out there loves me and wants to write one, I will gladly accept any challenge you want to offer me. Seriously, I will write any GW fic you want me to - AU, canon, 1x2, 3x4, 1xR for that matter (although, seriously, please no?). Anyway… all you writers out there, give it a thought?

A/N #4: The next chapter of Umbra is with my beta... and this was finished... so... yeah, I decided to post it now.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Six

Heero was on the verge of sleep when the door to his chambers banged open.

He had his sword in his hand and was halfway out of the bed before the intruder identified himself.

"I'm not here to murder you in your sleep."

Heero relaxed at the sound of Solo's voice and laid down his sword to pull back the bed curtains.

Solo looked ruffled and more than a little desperate. His hair was tousled, and he was wearing only a fur lined dressing gown. Heero guessed that he had just risen from bed.

"Trouble sleeping?" He asked.

Solo sighed and sat down on the bed, leaning against one of the bed posts.

Heero looked over and saw that Trowa was still asleep – or at least _pretending_ to still be asleep – with his face buried in the pillows and his bare back facing them.

"I keep thinking about my brother," Solo confessed.

Heero eased back onto the bed.

"It was one defeat," he said, thinking that Solo's pride was bruised from the loss in the tournament that afternoon.

Solo snorted a laugh.

"No, it was a lifetime of defeat. And that's not – I have no issue with losing the fight to him. After all, he defeated you as well."

Heero nodded and rubbed the spot on his stomach where Duo had kicked him. It was, he knew, his own fault for hesitating in the first place.

He wondered just what Duo had said to Solo after he had defeated him. The words had left Solo looking stricken, and Duo hadn't materialized at the evening meal hours later.

"There's more to him that you haven't told me," Solo said.

Heero frowned.

"Yes," he agreed after a moment's consideration.

Solo sighed.

"So he's carrying around all of this emotional baggage – you two brilliant conversationalists are the only one's he knows, and now he's consorting with Wufei and Meilin. Those two are as likely to turn him into an anarchist than a proper Theran prince," Solo groused.

"Quatre."

Trowa's voice was muffled by the pillow and rough with sleep.

"What?" Solo asked.

"Send him to Quatre if you're so concerned with him learning how to be a Theran prince."

Solo looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded.

"Good idea."

"I know." Trowa still hadn't moved.

Solo leaned back against the bedpost and sighed.

"He thought I would rescue him, did you know?" The prince closed his eyes and shook his head. Heero had never seen him look so exposed and nearly broken. "He waited for me to find him, all those years. Until…" Solo frowned. "What happened to him five years ago? Why did he give up? You know he won't let the pages dress him?"

He turned to look at Heero.

The soldier shrugged. "He's not used to them."

"Or he doesn't want them to see him naked," Solo suggested.

"So he's modest," Trowa groaned into the pillow, "it's not the end of the world. There's still hope for him losing his virginity."

"Or he doesn't want them to see any scars," Heero mused. "If he was taken before the Inquisition, it stands to reason they tortured him."

Solo looked pained. "I should have done something."

"What could you have done? You were twelve." Heero pointed out.

"My brother needed me. Isn't he the one I've been trained from birth to protect?"

Trowa sighed and finally rolled over.

"You were a child. There was nothing you could have done. He's clearly had a very shitty life, but that is _not_ your fault. Stop focusing on the past. Both of you." He glared at them. "If I can let the past go, the two of you should as well."

Heero bowed his head, accepting the admonishment. Trowa made an excellent point, and he could see Solo nodding reluctantly.

"So we just… move forward?" The prince asked.

"Only place we can move," Trowa agreed. "He'll forgive you. He just needs time."

"And allies," Heero suggested. He had been impressed with Duo's performance yesterday, and he admired the prince for both his victories and the way he had embraced his opponents after each match. Duo clearly had honor, and was a good man.

The fact that Trowa and Heero had brought him to Thera and more or less dumped him on Solo and Gregory and stepped back didn't sit well with Heero. They were the only two people who knew what the boy had just been through, and he was no doubt still grieving for all of those he had buried.

Heero sighed and Trowa groaned.

"No, don't get that look on your face," Trowa warned him.

"What look?" Heero frowned.

"The one where you feel guilty and want to save the world."

"He might not like us, but I think he trusts us more than anyone else in Thera," Heero said. "He needs allies. He needs to be forced out of his isolation. And we are the ones who found him."

"For which we should be rewarded, and _not_ punished," Trowa growled.

Solo smiled slightly.

"Are you suggesting that spending time with my little brother is a punishment?"

"Yes," Trowa said. "The boy is – impossible."

"And the two of you aren't?" Solo asked.

Heero frowned.

"We've earned the right," Trowa said. "And he – damn it all. Fine. We'll befriend him. We'll be his _allies_."

Solo looked triumphant, but more importantly, he looked more at ease than he had when he had first entered the room.

"Thank you," Solo said. "I – I wish I could do more for him."

"He just needs time," Trowa said, finally sitting up and looking Solo in the eye. "By spring the two of you will no doubt be disgustingly chummy."

Solo chuckled.

"One can only hope." He shook his head. "What are the two of you even doing awake? At this hour you should be sleeping."

"We were," Trowa growled.

Solo stood up.

"Thank you," he said to both of them before leaving the room.

Heero lay back down, amused when Trowa immediately buried himself back under the blankets.

He didn't know _how_ they were going to become Duo's allies, but he knew it was the right decision.

Mission accepted, he tried to sleep.

* * *

By the time Heero tracked down Trowa the next morning he had developed a plan. He didn't think that winning Duo's complete trust would be easy, or quick, but he was fairly confident that he knew how to at least break down some of the barriers the prince had erected between himself and the rest of the court.

He found Trowa in the Royal stables, tending to Heavyarms.

"We should take him to the temple of the God of Death," he said.

Trowa looked up from brushing out his horse's coat and frowned.

"I'm not sure it would be a good idea for him to reconnect with those priests," Trowa argued.

"I think he needs it. You and I don't believe – but he does. And he hasn't had the chance to mark their passing."

Trowa sighed.

"Sure, but what if we take him there and he decides to – I don't know – take orders? How the hell are we going to explain to Solo that we found his brother one week and let him become a priest the next?"

"If he wanted to become a priest he would have done so by now," Heero pointed out. "He's obviously been to Antioch – he could have joined the temple here if he wanted to."

Trowa frowned.

"He had people to fight for, before."

"He has people to fight for _now_ ," Heero argued.

Trowa shrugged.

"He's your prince."

Heero rolled his eyes.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No," Trowa sighed. "I think it's a good idea. I just don't want to set foot in that temple. Ever."

Heero nodded in understanding. His memories of his father's death were bad enough, but Trowa had lost many more, and he could only imagine how painful the ceremony was for him.

Trowa finished with Heavyarms and gave her a carrot before following Heero out of the stables.

"Do you know where he is?" Trowa asked Heero.

"He's been fencing with Meilin in the South Courtyard this time of day," Heero answered. "The tournament is over… but I imagine he'll still be working on his technique."

"Hm. He certainly doesn't fight like any Theran I've ever encountered," Trowa said. "Even if you hadn't hesitated yesterday I'm not sure you would have won."

"I'll defeat him the next time we fight."

"Of course. You've seen the way he moves, now."

Sure enough, Duo was going through a series of passes and advances at Meilin's direction.

Meilin spotted them before Duo did, and she frowned at their approach.

Heero couldn't help but notice that a week of decent meals had started to fill out Duo's frame. He no longer looked like a half-starved child. The tailored black doublet and breeches he wore only seemed to emphasize the lean strength in his frame as he moved.

He caught himself admiring the prince's ass when he lunged forward and he shook himself.

"Good morning," Trowa called out, startling Duo.

The prince turned and his shoulders tensed when he recognized them.

"If you're here to reprimand me, mind waiting until at least after I've had lunch today?" Duo sneered.

"Actually," Trowa said, "Heero suggested that you might benefit from a tour of the Royal Quarter. Obviously you're familiar with the Eastern Quarter, but most of the ranking nobility live in palaces surrounding this one."

Duo frowned and looked between them, clearly expecting a trap.

"So I'm allowed to leave the damn palace now?"

"In my company," Heero reminded him.

Duo rolled his eyes, but Heero could see that he was eager for any opportunity to escape from what he clearly viewed as a prison.

"Mind if we pick this up tomorrow?" He asked Meilin.

"Not at all." She gave both Heero and Trowa a warning look, as though Duo were under _her_ protection.

Heero had always respected the iron-willed princess, and he was honestly grateful that she and Wufei had taken Duo into their care.

Duo sheathed his sword and fell into step between Heero and Trowa as they started off towards the main gate.

"Solo didn't order the two of you to kill me and dump my body, did he?" Duo asked, clearly still uneasy at the invitation to leave the palace.

Trowa snorted.

"Hardly. Although if you manage to embarrass him in a fight like that again he might rethink his desire to make amends."

"Make amends?"

"He thinks he failed you – that he should have rescued you."

Duo's shoulders tensed.

"Yeah, well…"

"But since he was only twelve when you were kidnapped, clearly you didn't expect him to rescue you," Trowa continued.

Heero watched Duo swallow and look down.

"You did," he realized.

"Of course I did!" Duo snapped. "He was my hero! I don't remember that much, but I remember getting lost, all the damn time, in those corridors. And he'd always find me. Every time – even when I was convinced no one remembered me. Of course I thought he'd rescue me!"

Heero remembered, now that Duo mentioned it, the prince's penchant for wandering off when he had been a child. Duo had constantly eluded the nurses and later tutors. He had always been amazed by just how far a four year old was able to wander on his own. And just as Duo had said – Solo had been the only one who could always find him.

The rest of the walk to the temple complex was made in silence. Duo's body language made it clear that any further conversation would result in an argument, and Heero frankly didn't care to engage him.

When they arrived at the temple complex that sat on the opposite bank of the river from the palace he saw Duo hesitate.

The complex consisted of temples for each other gods, but the god of death's temple was in the center of the others – opposite the god of life's – and the imposing black marble columns of the temple sent a chill down Heero's spine.

"This isn't the Royal Quarter," Duo said.

"Technically it _is_ ," Heero argued. "And if you want, we can certainly take you on a tour of palaces. But… I thought you might want to visit the temple."

Duo swallowed hard, but then he nodded and moved forward, leading the way to the temple.

The inside of the temple was every bit as dark and disturbing as Heero remembered it being. He almost regretted suggesting this, but one look at Duo made him confident that this had been the right choice.

The prince sighed, and tension seemed to ease from his entire frame.

Heero and Trowa remained at the threshold of the temple, and Heero knew that the other man was just as uncomfortable as he was.

Duo slowly walked down the center aisle of the temple and fell to his knees before the gold statue of an eagle in flight. Clutched in the eagle's talons was a bowl of ashes. Duo reached into the bowl and then rubbed a handful of ashes across his brow.

Heero wasn't sure how much time passed before a priest entered the hall, sweeping down the center aisle in a whisper of black robes.

The hooded figure walked around Duo and laid a hand on his head.

"Have you come to ease a passing, child of the gods?" The priest asked, his voice an aged and raspy whisper.

"Yes," Duo choked.

"And will you confess your sins against the God? So that he may know you and judge your worthiness?"

Duo's shoulders stiffened.

"Yes," he said after a moment.

"We should leave," Trowa suggested.

Heero nodded in agreement and the two started to leave.

"Remain!" The priest called out, and Heero and Trowa froze in place. "His sins must be acknowledged and judged. Secrecy will do nothing but add to his shame."

If Heero needed any reason to avoid _ever_ going into this temple again he now had it. He would rather face the Mysian army alone that have to listen as Duo confessed his 'sins.'

Trowa squeezed his shoulder, as if sensing Heero's inner turmoil.

Neither had much respect for the gods, and even less for their priests – the idea of having to be judged to even say a prayer for the dead was ridiculous, in Heero's mind. What did these priests know of life? What did their gods even care?

He forced himself to calm down as the priest started to question Duo.

"When did you last confess before the god?"

"Five years, ten months, and twelve days ago," Duo said after a moment's hesitation.

"In that time, what shame have your brought upon the god?"

Duo sucked in a long breath and then slowly released it.

"I have allowed the bodies to lie in the ground. I have killed in his name, without his blessing. I –"

"How many have you killed?"

"Forty-nine. I've taken forty-nine souls without his blessing."

"Continue."

"I failed to keep his sanctuary pure. I have failed to pray to his mistress. I… I have lusted. And I have cursed his name. Many, _many_ times."

The priest was silent for a long moment.

"And what honor have you brought upon the god?"

"I have only taken the lives of those who take others."

Heero frowned. Surely Duo had done _something_ else that could be considered good by the standards of the God of Death? It certainly seemed that he had done plenty wrong.

The priest smoothed his hand over Duo's head, to the back of his neck, and brushed his thumb over the eagle tattooed there.

"And yet you would pledge your life to the god?" The priest seemed taken aback by the mark of an acolyte.

"I cannot," Duo said, and his voice was a broken whisper.

"The god knows you as his child," the priest intoned. "You are his to preserve, and your errors are his to correct. He will guide you into his embrace one day. While you are apart, you must strive to bring honor to the god. Be worthy of his eternity."

The priest used the hem of his cloak to wipe Duo's forehead clean of the ashes.

"You are forgiven for the shame you have caused the god, and you are blessed for the honor you have brought him. Pray to his mistress and she will light the path for you to follow so that you may honor him again."

"Thank you, father," Duo murmured. He rose to his feet.

"But – you are no longer his servant. The mark you bear is of a path no longer open to you."

"I know, father."

"Therefore, you must live as one of his children."

"I – I don't understand."

"It is no sin for you to lust, child. It is no sin for you to _love_. It is your duty to honor him as best you may. If you cannot serve him under the dark hood, then you must serve him in the light."

"Yes," Duo agreed slowly.

"That should put Solo's mind at ease," Trowa muttered.

Heero nodded in agreement.

"Shall we mark a passing?" The priest asked, guiding Duo towards the banks of candles that flanked either side of the eagle. Many flickered in the drafty air, but there looked to be dozens that were unlit.

"I have many to remember," Duo said, hesitating slightly.

"Then let us mark each one," the priest assured him.

By the time Duo and the priest had said prayers for the souls of those Duo wanted to remember and lit candles for each of them at least two hours had passed, and nearly every candle had been lit.

The sheer number of deaths that the boy had witnessed was staggering, and Heero felt his stomach constrict when Duo's hand shook as he lit the last candle.

"We're never coming back here," Trowa muttered.

"Agreed."

When Duo turned and walked back towards them, Heero steeled himself for the same abrasive attitude that Duo had displayed when they dragged him here in the first place, but instead he seemed remarkably at ease.

Heero and Trowa followed him out of the temple and fell into step on either side of him.

"Thank you," Duo said after a few minutes of walking. "That was something I needed to do."

"I live to serve," Heero murmured, but the standard Guards response made Duo frown.

"I don't want your service," he said with a sigh. "I don't want slaves. I don't want people obeying me just because I was born to wealth and power."

"Then what do you want?" Trowa asked.

"The hell if I know," Duo muttered.

The honest response made both Heero and Trowa smirk.

"My family made a commitment to preserve the Royal house of Thera, and we've done so for the last two hundred years." Heero said. "My service honors that commitment. I do not choose to protect your life because you were born a prince. I choose to protect your life because you BECAME a prince. Your actions have the strength to change thousands of lives, and I believe that you will change them for the better."

Duo shook his head.

"The two of you make a great team, you know that? I've got him," he jerked his thumb at Trowa, "egging me on by claiming I don't have the balls to do this and throwing guilt at me left and right, and _you_ ," he pointed at Heero, "lay _that_ shit on me. There's no winning with you two."

"We've had years to perfect our double-sided attacks," Trowa agreed with a smirk. "Plus, we're always right. Always."

Duo snorted a laugh and then sobered.

"Any chance we could _not_ eat at the palace tonight?" He asked. "I'd like to go just one meal without having the king look at me like I'm his only hope for the future."

Heero refrained from pointing out that Gregory looked at Duo like that because he w _as_ the only hope for the future.

Trowa arched an eyebrow at Heero, silently asking his opinion.

"This isn't some plan to run away is it?"

"No," Duo sighed. "I've given up on any hope of escaping. What, now that you've saddled me with the burden of making the decisions to change thousands of lives for the better." Duo shrugged. "I'd just rather not make those decisions on an empty stomach."

* * *

Trowa had suggested Maeve's Tavern for their evening repast. The tavern was on the edge of the Royal Quarter, buried among the townhouses that served as the homes for the craftsmen and artisans employed by the Royal family.

Heero didn't frequent the tavern often – Harold's was more welcoming to soldiers – but he knew that Trowa appreciated the atmosphere and the patrons, both of which reminded the Sentinel of his original home.

By the time they arrived the tavern was full of half-drunken poets and actors who seemed to be in the midst of an argument.

Heero shook his head, but Trowa's eyes lit up at the sight, and even Duo seemed intrigued.

"Come on." He led them to a booth removed from the action, with a good view of the door and a quick escape route through the kitchens.

"What's happening?" Duo asked as they sat.

"Drunken artists trying to show off for each other," Trowa answered him when Heero only snorted derisively. "Maeve's is the place most poets and actors come to drink, and you can see that they're a rowdy bunch."

"Does Solo come here?" Duo asked.

"No," Trowa shook his head. "He – like Heero – prefers Harold's. Quatre Winner comes here every once in a while, however."

Duo frowned.

"He's…"

"Your brother's lover," Trowa supplied.

"Yeah. And he's from Lydia?"

"Yes. A prince – but with twelve older sisters he's as far from the throne as you can get. Likely he'll stay here warming your brother's bed for the rest of his life."

"He didn't compete in the tournament."

"Quatre doesn't believe in needless combat," Trowa said with a frown. "He's a deadly warrior, mind you, but he thinks that these games are a waste of time."

"I agree with him there," Duo muttered.

"You don't think there's value in a competition that allows anyone in Antioch to compete for the honor of being named the best swordsman?" Heero asked.

"Sure – if the field was actually open to everyone. I didn't see any commoners there."

"You will at the Hellas games," Heero promised him. "This tournament wasn't quite as anticipated as those are."

A barmaid finally came over to their table. She deposited a tankard of beer and three tin mugs on the table.

"Will you be dining with us tonight?" She asked. She started to wink at Heero, but then looked at the others. "Three fine men such as yourselves – will you be needing company?"

"No," Trowa assured her. "We suit each other just fine."

Heero was amused by the look of comic horror on Duo's face. It seemed that the priest's command to embrace lust hadn't sunk in quite yet.

The barmaid frowned for a moment, then cackled.

"And I'll bet you _do_ suit each other too!"

Heero rolled his eyes.

"Is that lamb I smell?" Trowa asked.

"Indeed it is. Marinated and roasted all day. Served with potatoes."

"Sounds delicious," Trowa said, he looked at Heero, who nodded in agreement. "Duo?"

"Er, yeah, sounds good."

"Excellent." She left them and headed towards the kitchens.

Heero poured beer for all of them and passed the mugs around.

Duo sniffed his.

"Don't tell me you've never had beer," Trowa said.

"And just when was I supposed to?" Duo demanded. "I haven't had the chance to go to a tavern before, the priests don't believe in indulgences, and for some reason we never got around to setting up our distillery in the rebel camp."

"Try it," Heero suggested, hoping to forestall a return to their earlier arguments.

Duo frowned but did as instructed, taking a healthy sip of the beer.

"Not bad," he concluded. "Bitter."

"Therans prefer their beer that way," Heero told him. He nodded at Trowa. "In Kos it's dark and full."

"And in Mysia it's sweet enough to be brandy," Trowa sneered.

A round of applause erupted from the poets on the opposite side of the tavern.

Heero looked over to see two of the poets bowing to each other while the others cheered them.

"And what's to be our next topic?" One of the poets demanded. "Shall we compare the sweet tortures of new love? Or wax lyric on the beauty of youth? Or –"

"How about a poem to celebrate the return of the young prince?" Someone spoke up.

"Ah! A worthy subject indeed!"

Duo groaned and sank back in his seat. Heero watched as he downed the rest of his mug and refilled it.

"Please no," he muttered as the poets cleared their throats and prepared.

"Fifteen years we've lived without the light of his violet eyes," the first poet begun.

"Or the delight of his amorous sighs!" The second one added.

The crowd cheered and Duo groaned.

Heero smirked.

"But now he's returned to his home," the first said.

"From whence we hope he'll never roam!"

"These guys are terrible!" Duo said.

"Yes," Heero agreed.

The barmaid returned with their meals, and Heero hoped that the food would distract Duo from the ongoing poetry.

"He defeated Solo with but a stick," the first poet said, and Heero closed his eyes, able to guess where the next verse would lead them.

"But he's yet to prove who has a better prick!"

The crowd cheered with laughter and Duo choked on his beer.

"Do you Therans think about _anything_ other than sex?" He demanded.

" _You_ Therans," Trowa corrected him.

"You'll get used to it," Heero assured him.

Duo shook his head in disbelief as the poets bowed before their crowd.

Luckily, the poets sat down to drink more, and they were left in blessed silence to finish their meal.

"We'd never be subjected to this at Harold's," Heero pointed out.

Trowa smirked.

"You're still traumatized from the poem they composed about _your_ prick," he said.

"I wouldn't say traumatized," Heero argued, though he had been mortified at the time. Trowa had convinced Heero, Quatre, and Solo to accompany him to the tavern – and Solo was recognizable enough that the poets had flocked to their table and spent the evening trying to outdo each other in bawdy rhymes. No one, including Heero, had been safe from their inspiration. He smirked as he recalled the poets description of Trowa.

"They had a few choice words to describe your skill in bed, if I recall," Heero pointed out.

Trowa smirked. "And they were well chosen, too." He sniffed and adopted a noble air. "After all, I _am_ a king among lovers and a legend in bed."

Duo shook his head.

"And I thought you two were the only sane ones in this place."

"We are, but we happen to enjoy sex just as much as any other normal human. You should know – you no doubt got an eyeful when you were spying on us by the river."

Duo flushed red.

Heero decided to save the prince from having to defend himself.

"We should leave before they finish their next round – they get worse the more they drink."

"Yes," Trowa agreed, "and I don't think your Prince can handle any more innuendo tonight."

Duo scowled.

Heero tossed a few gold coins onto the table and led them from the tavern.

He led them back to the palace, allowing Duo to set a sedate pace.

"So what IS the obsession with sex about?" Duo finally asked.

"You've inherited a cold kingdom," Trowa pointed out. "Nothing keeps you warm quite as well as another warm body."

Duo frowned at that answer.

"Plus, the patron god of Antioch _is_ the god of life – and he did command that his children rejoice in each other," Heero added.

"I've noticed that a lot of the nobles have lovers of their same sex," Duo made the statement a question.

"Legitimacy is an issue among the nobility – and royalty especially," Trowa explained with a shrug. "Most nobles are encouraged to be bisexual – better to love take a lover you aren't likely to have illegitimate offspring with."

"Wufei and Meilin seem obsessed with each other."

"They are," Heero agreed. "Most married couples maintain their lovers, even after marriage, but those two…" he shook his head.

"Solo talks about sex all of the time," Duo groused.

"When have _you_ been spending time with him?" Trowa asked, amused.

"I don't," Duo growled. "But even just in passing – he can't seem to help but comment on someone's skill in bed."

Trowa shrugged. "He's a prince of Thera. Sex is one of his hobbies."

Duo was still frowning.

"So he just sleeps with anything that moves?"

"No," Heero argued. "Well, when he was younger he was less discerning…"

"He loves Quatre. Worships him, I'd say," Trowa jumped in. "And he doesn't believe that sex is meaningless. None of us do."

"No, I get that you two don't. I see the way you look at each other. You –" he stopped himself and shrugged. " You didn't just jump into bed with each other."

"Actually, we did," Heero corrected him.

"We grew up together," Trowa added, "but I never really thought about Heero as a potential lover until… he was."

Heero nodded in agreement.

Duo sighed, and Heero didn't think he was imagining the wistfulness he heard in it.

"Yeah, well…" his voice trailed off.

Heero realized that Duo had grown up with no one – that it was entirely possible that everyone he had known as a child may very well be dead.

"Don't worry," Trowa said, clearly following the same logic that Heero had, "I'm sure Solo will give you another few weeks before he starts sending his old lovers to warm your bed." He clapped Duo on the back.

* * *

Up Next: Duo finally starts to adjust to his life in the palace.

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Chapter 7**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update this – I was sick, and that led to me being completing unmotivated… but now I'm better and I'm back!

A/N #2: Okay, so there's some more major Duo angst this chapter, but then…things start to get better. I promise. I just wanted everyone to know that there IS hope on the very near horizon before you start reading further. And thank you, by the way, for that further reading.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Seven

Duo kept his early morning routine of practicing with Meilin. He appreciated the time she was investing in him, but even more so, it was the most relaxing part of his days. He enjoyed being able to focus all of his mental and physical energy on one task.

Nights were undoubtedly the worst part of his days. They were riddled with nightmares and memories and when he woke up – usually very early in the morning – his brain often felt hazy as he sorted through the dark visions.

Going through the sword exercises with Meilin was a wonderful opportunity for him to put everything aside, to clear his mind and just exist.

The morning after his visit to the temple he was feeling particularly in need of focus, but for an entirely new reason. Instead of his sleep being plagued with the faces of the dead it had instead been fantasies of Heero and Trowa that had woken him in a cold sweet.

He didn't know if it had been the drinking, the lewd poetry, or the casual way the two men talked about sex – but it was impossible for Duo to _not_ picture the two of them together, as they had been by the river.

"You're distracted," Meilin interrupted his wandering thoughts with an angry sighed.

He forced visions of golden, naked bodies out of his mind and turned to her.

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, I if daydreaming is more important than learning how to properly defend yourself with a sword, then –"

"It isn't. I'm _sorry_." He repeated and then smirked at her still angry face. "You are going to be such a scary mother. So manipulative already."

She opened her mouth to snap back at him but abruptly closed it and looked past his shoulder.

Duo turned to see what she was looking at and couldn't help the frown that formed on his face.

Quatre Winner, the pale, blonde lover of his brother, approached them. His stride was jaunty and there was a bright, determined smile on his face.

"This can't be good," Duo muttered to Meilin.

"He's not _that_ bad," she admonished him.

"Really? Then why do _you_ –"

"Morning!" Quatre called brightly when he got closer.

"Good morning," Meilin returned politely.

"Hey," Duo muttered.

Quatre's smile remained firmly in place, clearly not swayed by Duo's lack of enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Meilin."

She shrugged.

"Don't be. He wasn't paying attention and there's no point in learning to do something wrong. We'll try again tomorrow morning." She nodded to both of them and then walked away.

Duo's jaw dropped at her abandonment. She _knew_ he didn't want to have to talk to Quatre!

"I promise I don't bite," Quatre joked, pulling Duo's attention back to him. The blue eyes had a slightly amused gleam to them. "Well, I won't bite _you_ ," he amended. "Your brother, on the other hand, I –"

"Ew. Don't need to know. Ever." Duo winced at the mental image _those_ words conjured.

Quatre laughed. It was a bright, rich sound and Duo felt himself immediately soften towards the other man.

"Now _that_ ," Quatre insisted, "was a perfectly normal reaction to information about your brother."

Duo frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Quatre shrugged.

"I mean that I've been watching you, and whenever anyone mentions anything about Solo – good or bad – you tense up and look like you want to run away."

"I didn't realize I was that obvious," Duo muttered.

Quatre snorted a laugh. "Yeah, I hate to break it to you – but you are just about as bad at hiding your emotions as your brother is – see! There it is again!"

Duo forced himself to stop frowning. He sighed.

"Okay, so I should…work on my reactions to information about Solo. Is that what you came out here to tell me?"

Quatre arched an eyebrow at Duo's tart words, but his smile was still firmly in place.

"Actually I wanted to offer my help."

"Help?" Duo echoed.

Quatre nodded.

"Solo's birthday is next week. I thought you might want my advice getting a present for him…"

Duo scowled. He had never really kept up with the dates of things from this life, even though Solo and Gregory's birthdays were both celebrated by all Therans. One year he HAD been in a free worker town during Solo's birthday. It had been one of the most depressing days he could recall that had nothing to do with death.

Quatre was still looking at him expectantly. Duo sighed.

"Yeah, I guess."

Quatre's smile widened.

"Excellent. I thought we could go into the East Market and look through a few shops and the stalls."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Sure my jailer will approve of that?"

Quatre smirked.

"Heero has relaxed his orders about you – he doesn't need to accompany you, but we _do_ have to take two guards."

Duo shrugged off the feeling of disappointment that announcement created. As annoying as he found it to be escorted everywhere, he was starting to enjoy Heero's company.

Quatre started off in the direction of the castle gates, and Duo fell into reluctant step behind him. When they reached the entrance to the fortress Duo instantly noticed the two guards standing off to one side, chatting to the regular sentries.

He glared at Quatre.

"You set this up ahead of time?"

Quatre shrugged.

"I thought it would be better to be prepared." Quatre smirked. "Plus, when there's something I want, it's damn near impossible for anyone to resist me."

Duo opened his mouth to argue, but the bright look on the blonde's face had him shaking his head instead.

Quatre signaled to the two guards, who walked over and greeted them.

"My prince," they said to Duo with a bow. They turned to Quatre. "Prince."

"We're heading to the Eastern Quarter," Quatre informed them. "And I'm sure no one is actively trying to kill Duo yet, so if you wouldn't mind, please be inconspicuous and give us space."

"Of course," the guard responded.

Duo looked at the blonde with a new sense of appreciation. He had just commanded those guards as though HE was their Captain. The look on his face and tone of his voice were firm and authoritative. It made him wonder about the dynamics of Quatre and Solo's relationship. From appearances, Quatre looked pleasant and … sweet. But Duo could see, even now, that the blonde had an iron will.

"So," Quatre said brightly, turning back to Duo once they were through the gates and walking towards the Eastern Quatre, "Solo thinks you're going to die a virgin and the throne of Thera will be empty."

Duo almost tripped.

"I – what?"

Quatre shrugged.

"He thinks you're a virgin," he paused and looked to Duo for confirmation.

Duo briefly debated telling the other man to go to hell, but the look of determination in those bright blue eyes had him reconsidering. He sighed.

"Yes, I am."

"Nothing wrong with that – all of us were virgins at some point in our lives," Quatre assured him.

Duo chuckled at that logic.

"Therans are a bit…well, sex is something Therans engage in _very_ frequently," Quatre continued. "I'm not suggesting it's unnatural or wrong for you to be a virgin, but… it is strange for a prince of Thera to be sleeping alone at night."

Duo frowned.

"What if I'm not interested in anyone?"

"Because the priests told you not to be?" Quatre asked.

Duo rolled his eyes.

"No – I mean, yes, but… it's complicated." He remembered the words of the priest yesterday, his admonition that Duo had to live and love. He sighed. "But mostly no. It has nothing to do with religion. Not anymore."

"So you just haven't seen anyone sufficiently interesting to capture your attention?" Quatre suggested.

"No, my attention's definitely been captured," Duo muttered and then instantly flushed.

"Oh really?" Quatre looked triumphant.

"It doesn't matter. If Solo is so concerned with me making heirs for the kingdom I don't need a lover anyway, right? Should I, what, start courting someone?" He frowned at the very thought. He knew almost no one in the Theran court. He couldn't even recall the names of any women.

"What about Hilde?" He asked, latching on to the ONLY woman he remembered – and certainly the most interesting.

Now it was Quatre's turn to stumble.

"Um, first, you're a little young to be worried about producing heirs – Solo's just being obnoxious and he's worried you're a eunuch. Second, Hilde Scheibeker? She's…trouble."

"Oh?" That only intrigued him more. Quatre sighed, clearly realizing his mistake.

"Her father is the Duke of Antioch."

"Please don't me that doesn't make her my cousin or something," Duo begged.

Quatre laughed.

"No, no. I keep forgetting that you don't know so much about Thera. The Duke of Antioch is an elected position. It's held for life and it's a very high honor. It is the duty of the Duke to protect Antioch during a siege, and during peace times he acts as a mediator between the various guilds and residents of the city. Conrad Scheibeker was a great general in the Mysian army, but he retired his command when Hilde was born. When the last Duke died he was almost unanimously elected to fill the role."

"So… the problem is that she's not nobility?" Duo hazarded. " Because that doesn't mean shit to me."

"No, well, yes, that is _a_ problem. The bigger issue is that Hilde…" Quatre sighed and looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know that Wufei and Meilin have a very unique relationship, yes?"

Duo nodded in agreement, but he wondered where this could be going.

"Among the nobility marriage is viewed as a partnership, and a tool for creating heirs. It is incredibly rare and very… _odd_ to have a couple view each other as lovers, as well as spouses."

"Doesn't work that way with commoners," Duo pointed out, having lived nearly his entire life among them.

"Exactly," Quatre agreed. "Commoners _do_ marry for love and for lust and it is very rare and odd for _them_ to have same sex lovers."

"Okay…" Duo had no idea how this related back to Hilde.

Quatre sighed.

"Hilde is, well… she's odd. She's a commoner, but she, ah, her preference for female company is very well known in court. She has been the lover of many of the noble women."

Duo's eyes widened at that information.

"No way?"

"Yes. Her views on marriage and men are… not very positive."

Duo grinned.

"I like her."

Quatre rolled his eyes.

"You cannot pursue her." He frowned. "Are you… do you prefer women to men?"

Duo shook his head.

"I don't think so." He tried to picture Hilde naked, but aside from having no frame of reference, he couldn't muster much enthusiasm for the mental exercise. But calling up his memory of Heero and Trowa… "I prefer men," he concluded.

"If you _do_ prefer women, it would be odd, but not _bad_. I'm sure Gregory would start negotiating to find you a wife –"

"No, really, I prefer men. And Hilde – I'm not kidding about her. I like her."

"Okay," Quatre hesitantly agreed. "If you're a virgin, what makes you so sure you prefer men?"

Duo's face flushed. He couldn't very well tell Quatre that the sight of Heero and Trowa's naked bodies was permanently etched into his mind and was one of the very few good things that plagued his sleep.

"Ah… so someone _has_ caught your eye," Quatre surmised. "Who is it?"

"It's not – it's not like that. It would never happen." Logistically, Duo really didn't think there was any chance either man, let alone both, would ever develop the same fixation on him that he had for them. Not to mention the fact that they were completely wrapped up in each other. Duo had no idea how three men would engage in physical acts – he barely had any idea of how two would.

"Maybe I can help," Quatre suggested.

Duo snorted.

"What, you'd just go up and ask the two of –" he snapped his mouth shut. "Aren't we here to get Solo a present, anyway?" He demanded.

Quatre's blue eyes were almost comically wide, but after a second he shook himself.

"Yes. Um… right. He enjoys hunting. Perhaps a new falcon?" Quatre suggested and nodded towards a storefront decorated with carvings of birds in flight.

Duo frowned.

"No, he's already got hunting falcons, right?"

Quatre nodded reluctantly.

"What _doesn't_ he have?"

Quatre sighed.

"Honestly? The man has damn near anything he could ever want or think of. At least, materialistically." Quatre's blue eyes were sharp as they met Duo's. "You know, Solo sleeps terribly."

"Please don't let this be a set up for more sexual innuendo," Duo begged.

"I've shared his bed for three years now – but I know this isn't a recent thing. Nearly every night he wakes up, sweating, panting, crying out _your_ name."

Duo swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.

"Solo loves you. His very life is devoted to protecting you – because it is his duty, but also because you are his brother. When you were kidnapped, something inside him died." Quatre shook his head. "He blamed himself for your kidnapping – even before he knew _you_ did." Quatre's eyes were hard and angry now. "And he knows that you can't – won't forgive him. He's sleeping better, now that you're back, but when he looks at you… I wish you could see his face when you turn away from him."

Duo frowned.

"I'm grateful that you came back, that Solo can now fufill his destiny, but I swear to the Gods, Duo, if I have to spend the rest of my life looking at him looking at YOU with so much despair and longing…" Quatre shook his head. "I have no idea what life you have led, but I do know that you have an immense future. I ask only that you allow Solo the same."

Under Quatre's frank blue stare Duo felt a wave of shame. He wanted to be angry with Quatre, wanted to argue and point out that his own sleep was plagued with nightmares and memories of deaths so gruesome that nothing would ever blot them out. But there was truth in Quatre's words, and Duo prided himself on never turning his back on the truth.

"I don't know how," he admitted in a quiet voice.

Quatre's face softened, but he remained silent.

"I worshipped him, when I was a kid – I remember that. And when I saw him in the throne room that day it was… I have this one memory, this one really great memory of him. Everything else is just bits and pieces, but he used to swing me up onto his shoulders and carry me around outside, in the orchard, so that I could pick apples without help." Duo shook his head. "I saw him and I remembered that - that perfect fucking memory and I _wanted_ to forget everything that's happened between then and now. I still – I can't, Quatre. Of course he deserves to be happy – my father too. They aren't bad men. But I'm not – I'm not who they want me to be, and I can't be. I'm not their prince. I'm not good enough for him, Quatre. I'm not good enough for him to look at me like that, or for him to wake up crying my name."

The blonde man looked appraisingly at him.

"Well," he said after a moment, "that's just bullshit. From the moment Solo first heard rumors about you – about a rebel named Duo Maxwell who not only managed to kill the Grand Inquisitor but also managed to give Trowa a run for his money, Solo has been proud of you. He doesn't want you to forget your past or abandon who you are - you _a_ re their prince and you _are_ good enough for Solo, and for Gregory, and for Thera. And for Trowa and Heero."

Duo narrowed his eyes at the other man.

"I can't say that I blame you," Quatre continued, his voice now teasing, "those two are beautiful to look at. Not much for conversation, unfortunately, but in bed you don't necessarily _need_ to do much talking."

Duo glared at him.

"Perhaps we should go gift hunting another day," Quatre suggested. "There was something I wanted to show you, anyway."

Duo regarded him suspiciously.

"Come on, I'm not going to take you to a brothel or anything – unless you want me to?"

Duo glared and Quatre laughed.

"I'm guessing Heero and Trowa don't know of your… interest in them," Quatre surmised as they turned and started to walk back to the palace.

"No," Duo growled, "and no one else _ever_ needs to know."

"Why not? It's nothing to be ashamed of. Like I said, they're beautiful men."

"I'm not ashamed, but there's – there's no point in it, now is there?"

Quatre shrugged. "They aren't monogamous. It's true that they've been lovers for…ten years now I suppose, but they've been with other men on occasion."

Duo frowned. For some reason the idea of Trowa and Heero with someone else didn't feel right to him. Those two were so finely tuned to each other that he simply couldn't imagine one without the other.

"Trowa's gone for most of the year," Quatre continued. "He visits during the warmer months, but he only lives here during the winter. I suppose they have some agreement to –"

"I'm not interested in one of them," Duo snapped, unable to listen to Quatre hypothesize about it any longer. "I want them _both_. I… it's not about sex."

Quatre arched an eyebrow.

"Not entirely," Duo amended quickly. "It's just… have you _seen_ them together?"

"Having sex?" Quatre asked in amusement. Duo glared at him.

"No, just, together. Talking, or fighting, or just… walking beside each other."

"Yes," Quatre answered.

"There's this air of completeness about them – like the two of them are this single unit that is perfect and completely self-sustaining. I want… I want to be a part of _that_. I don't want to share their bed, I want… I want to _belong_."

"To them?"

" _With_ them," Duo corrected. "I don't belong to anyone," he insisted.

"Duo."

He looked over at Quatre, taken aback by the change in his tone.

"Quatre?"

"I'd like to be your friend. I know that I'm your brother's lover and you don't entirely trust me, but… I'm a good friend and you need a friend."

"I've got Wufei and Meilin."

"Also good friends," Quatre assured him.

"Why?" Duo asked. "Why do you want to be my friend?"

"I like you. You are nothing like Solo, and yet… I like you."

Duo hesitated for a moment.

"I'm not really… I haven't had friends before now."

Quatre's blue gaze was sharp.

" _No_ friends?"

"None who lived for very long."

"Well," Quatre assured him, "I'm not going anywhere. Not unless your brother fucks me to death anyway."

"Argh! Again! Seriously, I do _not_ need to know!"

Quatre laughed.

"Follow me," he told Duo and gestured towards the castle in front of them.

"Please please don't be showing me something to do with you and Solo and sex," he begged as he followed Quatre inside and towards the royal quarters.

"Mmm. Okay, since you asked nicely."

Quatre opened the ornate door to a room several yards down the hall from Duo's own. He cautiously followed the other man inside.

"Come on," Quatre said, sounding impatient, and tugged on Duo's arm. "Echo's litter are ready to be given homes, and we wanted you to have first pick."

"Echo?" Duo repeated.

"Our setter. Great hunting dog." Quatre led him into a bedroom and indicated a pile of fur near the fireplace.

"A dog."

"Yes, a dog."

"You want me to…you're giving me a dog?"

"Yes. If you want one – they're about fourteen weeks old, perfect age to meet their new master."

"I've never had a dog."

"Well, we can fix that," Quatre assured him and gave him a shove in the direction of the dogs. "Here, sit down and in no time you'll be covered in puppies."

Duo frowned but did as instructed, sitting down on the rug by the fireplace, just out of reaching distance of the setter and the litter of nine puppies.

The dam, Echo, regarded him with intelligent brown eyes. Her coat was a mottled mix of brown and white fur, and it looked soft enough that he was tempted to move closer and touch her.

Quatre joined him, sitting on the other side of Echo, much closer to her than Duo, and ran a hand over her back.

"She's harmless, unless you're river fowl. Or Solo's leather boots," Quatre told him.

Duo was still unconvinced, however, especially after the dog yawned and revealed massive teeth.

"The Mysians use dogs to hunt out secret temples," he said.

"The Mysians could take a ray of sunshine and turn it into a weapon," Quatre muttered.

Duo arched an eyebrow at the bitterness in his voice.

Quatre sighed. "It's not that Zechs and Relena – the prince and the Queen – are evil, they're just surrounded by evil advisors and they want to rule all of Hellas."

"I'd beg to differ on the evil part," Duo muttered.

"You'd know better than me," Quatre agreed.

They fell into silence, Quatre still running a hand over Echo's back, and Duo staring at the litter uneasily, convinced they would attack him at any moment.

Sure enough, it was only a short time later when first one, and then three more, wandered over to him and started to sniff and then nip at his clothes.

"Hey!" He scooped up one that seemed intent on shaking either itself or Duo's breeches to death.

He held the solid brown puppy up to his face and regarded it. He noticed several white flecks across her cheeks and on her belly, almost an inverse of the pattern on Scythe, his horse.

"You," he decided, "are a trouble maker."

Her wriggly brow knit together at his words, as though she were trying to decipher his meaning, and then she nudged her head forward and swiped her tongue across his nose.

"No more fighting with my pants," he told her and set her back down.

Instead of tottering back to her brothers and sisters, the pup stayed by his side and whenever any of the others got too close or tried to grab his breeches she jumped on to them and wrestled them away before returning to his side.

The second time it happened he reached down and petted her.

"Good girl," he whispered. She rolled over and he tickled her belly until she started to kick him and nip at his fingers. He let her use his hand as a toy, tugging on her little legs and then waving his fingers just out of reach. She yipped in delight at the game.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but when he next looked up, Quatre was gone.

"Quat –" he turned to see Solo sitting on the bed. He frowned. "This is your room?"

Solo nodded. "Our room – Quatre shares it with me."

"I… didn't realize."

"Or you wouldn't have come inside?" Solo guessed.

Duo scowled and then shrugged.

"Probably not."

Solo sighed and rose from the bed. He approached Duo and the dogs slowly, as though afraid of startling them. He sat down in almost the exact spot that Quatre previously had. Most of the puppies tottered over to him, stumbling in their eagerness to greet him.

Duo was gratified to see that _his_ companion barely stirred. She had settled against his foot and was blinking her eyes slowly, clearly fighting sleep.

"I'm sorry for that," Solo said.

"Me too," Duo admitted.

Solo frowned at him.

"I am," Duo insisted. "I wish – I _want_ – hell, Solo, I don't know anymore."

"You don't have to stay," Solo said after a long moment of silence. "Here. In Thera. If you… if you want to go, I won't stop you. You deserve to make your own fate."

Duo snorted. "And what about you? Don't _you_ deserve to be free also?"

Solo shrugged.

"I'm content here. I have Quatre, I have my duties and my friends. This is my life, but it doesn't have to be yours. If you would rather live out there, I… I can help you."

Duo frowned and then shook his head.

"There's nothing for me out there. Solo, I shouldn't have said that – I should never have told you that I waited for you to find me."

"Was it a lie?"

"No," Duo assured him, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Every stranger who came to the temple I always ran to see, hoping it was you."

"I deserved it," Solo said. "I did. And… at least you thought of me, remembered me."

Duo swallowed hard at the sincerity in Solo's voice.

"Why did you stop?" Solo asked.

"What?"

"You said you waited ten years for me – why did you stop?"

Duo shook his head.

"It's not – it's not your fault."

"Nor is it my right," Solo added. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know where to begin with you. I want – I _need_ to know who you are. You're my brother and you've been gone for fifteen years. That's time I'll never get back, but I want us to have a future. I want _you_ to have a future."

Duo gently lifted the puppy on his foot and held her in his arms. The feel of her soft, warm body was amazingly soothing.

"The Mysians came, that's why I stopped waiting for you. I was fourteen, almost fifteen, and Father Maxwell had me hide the younger kids in the hills overlooking the temple. He wouldn't let me stay, wouldn't let me help. I couldn't get to everyone, just the youngest kids – the rest… they waited for ME to come back for them, but I was too late and they died." He shook his head. "They died because they waited for me. And I realized… I couldn't wait for you, Solo. It wasn't that I gave up on you, or that I stopped believing you'd find me. But I couldn't _wait_. I had to do something."

"So you became Duo Maxwell."

"Yes. I got the kids to the nearest free worker settlement and then I hooked up with some rebels. I've spent the last five years doing what I could. It's never enough – it's damn near pathetic, what I've done, but I couldn't wait any longer."

"I understand."

Duo looked up at him.

"It's not about you," Duo clarified.

"I know," Solo agreed. "I wish I'd had the courage to do the same. I've spent the last fifteen years waiting for _you_ – word that you were dead, or some insane chance that you still lived. But I haven't _done_ anything. I haven't been the prince I should have been, or even the prince I _could_ have been." He sighed. "I just… I wish we could just start over."

Duo regarded him for a moment and then set the puppy down in his lap. He held out a hand to Solo.

His brother regarded it warily for a moment, but when Duo waved it in his face he accepted it.

""Hi, I'm Duo, your insanely witty and damned impressive little brother."

Solo smirked.

"And I'm Solo, your ridiculously good looking and amazingly good in bed older brother."

Duo winced and Solo chuckled.

"Seriously, what _is_ it with you Therans and sex?" He muttered.

Solo gripped his hand tightly when he started to pull away.

"You have every right to be angry with me, for as long as you want," Solo told him.

"No, I don't. You're my brother and I love you. _That's_ what I thought about, every day for the last fifteen years – not that you didn't come find me – but that I loved you and I missed you."

Solo cleared his throat.

"So, what are you going to name her?" He nodded at the dog in Duo's lap and released his hand.

He frowned and looked down at her. He hadn't realized it, but he HAD chosen her – or rather, she had chosen him.

"Hellas," he decided.

Solo nodded.

"A good name. She helped bring _us_ back together. Perhaps we can help bring the land of Hellas back together as well?" Solo suggested.

* * *

That night, Duo snapped awake in the middle of a dream about Solo, Quatre, and Heero jousting.

Hellas whimpered, and as she did so kicked Duo. Her sharp little claws dug into his side and he shifted away from her and then frowned.

What had woken him?

He surveyed the dim bedroom. The fire was a low, orange blaze behind the iron gate, but it provided enough light that he could see the outlines of the room's furniture. Everything looked to be in place, and there was no movement in the room.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back. He reached out and ran a hand over the dog's soft fur, hoping to soothe her back into sleep. He had no hopes for his OWN return to sleep. The novelty of having the soft, warm body pressed against his side had certainly helped him fall asleep in the first place, but once awake, he knew from experience that it was nearly impossible for him to fall back asleep.

After a few minutes of petting her, Hellas was sleeping again. Duo carefully rolled away from her and got out of the bed.

He stoked the fire back to life and stood in front of it, enjoying the feel of the warmth on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shift in the shadows and he spun around.

A solid mass dove out of the shadows and crashed into him. Duo toppled over and landed on the hard, cold stone floor. His skull cracked against it and he cursed.

His attacker was straddling his hips, and Duo could see only the glimmer of dark eyes glaring down at him. The rest of the man's face and body was wrapped in black.

His eyes weren't the only thing glimmering – Duo caught sight of the dagger just as the man swung it towards his throat.

Duo barely managed to catch the man's wrist and stopped the blade just as it touched his throat.

The man's other hand latched onto Duo's braid and wrenched his head to the side.

One hand still latched onto the knife, Duo lashed out with his other hand. He punched the man in the throat. The man gargled brokenly and Duo felt his grip relax on the knife.

Duo threw his weight forward and reversed their positions so that the man was now under him. Duo forced the dagger against his throat.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"The man who will kill the Theran menace," the man hissed.

"Yeah, not going to happen," Duo promised. "Maybe you missed the part where I've got your own knife pressed against your throat?" Duo applied a little pressure, cutting into the flesh slightly.

"I've got more than one knife," the man replied. It was Duo's only warning before the man twisted to the side.

The knife sliced into his neck, but the man was still moving, drawing another, longer and much scarier looking knife, and lashing out at Duo with it.

Duo dove backwards and then ducked the man's next attack. He rolled to the side and grabbed for the iron poker by the fireplace. He got to his feet and held it in front of him.

The man laughed at him and lunged forward. Duo parried the attack with the poker. The man danced to the side and slashed into Duo's shirt. He could feel the drag of the knife against his side, but it felt like little more than a scratch.

Duo instantly swung the poker at the man's head, catching him completely off guard and knocking him to the ground.

"Who sent you?" He demanded.

"Better men than _you_."

Duo rolled his eyes and then kicked the knife out of the man's hand when he moved to attack Duo again. He pressed the sharp end of the poker against the man's heart.

"You'll need to be more specific than that," he said idly.

"Mysia will rise up and destroy you."

"So I'm guessing… the Mysians sent you." Duo pressed the poker harder, leaning his weight against it.

"And they will send more after me, you worthless heathen!" The man grasped the poker in both hands and shoved it into his own chest.

Duo instantly dropped the poker, shocked and incredibly disturbed that the assassin had taken his own life.

"Holy shit." He watched the body writhe for a moment and then still. Cautiously, he knelt and checked for a pulse. The man was dead.

He stared at the body for a moment, transfixed by the dead man and the sight of the iron poker rising from his chest.

Duo shook himself and stood. He needed to get the guards.

He opened the outer door of his chamber and had to leap backwards to avoid the two bodies that immediately fell inside.

"Fuck!"

He checked for a pulse on both guards, but they too were dead. Their throats had been slashed, and Duo's fingers were dark and sticky with their blood. He hastily wiped it on his shirt before gently closing their eyes.

There were now three dead bodies in his room, and Duo was sufficiently disturbed to decide to get Heero.

He was the sure the Captain of the Guard would know what to do – likely there was some protocol for this.

It wasn't the first time someone had tried to kill him – not even the fifth time – but for some reason he found himself on the verge of panicking.

When he reached the door to Heero's quarters he pounded on it until it opened.

Heero looked sleep tousled and was completely naked, but the sight of his golden, naked body and the sword he held in one hand somehow made breathing easier for Duo.

"Duo." Heero was scowling slightly, his blue gaze searching Duo's face.

"There are three dead bodies in my room and I don't know what to do with them. The guards were killed. An assassin from Mysia. Bastard tried to kill me but – fuck, Heero, he killed himself! I was standing there and he just grabbed – he killed _himself_!" Duo knew he sounded hysterical, but the image of that man stabbing himself kept replaying itself in his mind.

Heero's eyes widened and then scanned Duo's body.

"You're hurt."

Duo looked down and noticed the blood spattered over his shirt.

"I'm okay," he insisted.

Heero grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room before slamming the door closed.

"Let me see," Heero said.

Duo looked around the other man's quarters and felt an eerie sense of déjà vu.

There was movement amidst the curtains on the bed, and then they moved aside to reveal Trowa. He was just as naked and tousled looking as Heero, and Duo forced himself NOT to think about the two of them together. Even though it was a much more pleasant mental image than the other one he was battling.

"Duo."

He looked back at Heero. The man had set aside his sword and was looking at Duo with determination.

"I'm fine," Duo repeated. He felt his side through the cut in his shirt. "He just nicked me. Barely a scratch."

"Show us," Trowa repeated Heero's request.

Duo scowled.

"I'm –"

"What are you hiding?" Trowa interrupted. He stood up and approached Duo. "The first night I met you, you were injured but you wouldn't take off your shirt to let me put any ointment on your injuries. You won't let the pages dress you, and you sleep with a shirt on. What are you hiding?"

Duo opened his mouth to argue, but the fierce expressions on both their faces made him pause.

"I need to see if you are injured before I can check your room," Heero insisted. "The cut might be deeper than you realize. You're likely in shock and –"

"Damnit." Duo pulled off his shirt in one quick, angry movement. "There. As you can see, it's nothing."

He glared at the two men, daring them to react to what he had revealed.

Their expressions were impossible to read, and he could only imagine what he looked like to them.

Trowa was the first to move. He stepped forward, but his eyes were on Duo's chest.

"What is that?" He asked, his voice low and deadly.

"It's the sign of the Gods," Duo sneered. "I've got the same thing on the back of my neck."

"I've never seen it…like that."

"Like that? You mean burned into a man's skin? Carved into his flesh?"

"Yes. Like that." Trowa's gaze met his own, and there was a simmering rage in their green depths.

"As far as I know I'm the only man alive with this mark," Duo told him.

Heero frowned.

"It's not… a religious thing?" He sounded doubtful. Duo knew how little both men thought of religion, but it was nevertheless insulting that Heero would even consider that this sort of torture was for the sake of the God of Death.

"Actually, I suppose it is." He clenched his shirt tightly in his hands, desperate to put it back on and cover up the mark, but he refused to give in to that instinct. "The Inquisition likes public executions, you know. Mostly it's burning people, but a few hangings also… those are mostly for the followers – the poor bastards unlucky enough to get caught at a secret temple service. But the priests – _those_ they burn. If you're convicted of heresy they brand you. Minor offenses and you get a small brand, here," Duo gestured to his sternum, just below his throat. "But for those found guilty of actively believing, of serving the gods, you get sentenced to death. And just so the people watching you burn know what your crime was, you get this brand. First they burn it into your flesh, and then they cut it open and fill it with ink. Usually it's sloppy, hardly looks like a bird, much less an eagle in flight. But me, I was lucky. The Grand Inquisitor himself took an interest in me and… gave me this memento."

"You were sentenced to die." Heero's voice was a hoarse mixture of shock and anger.

"That's the punishment for proselytizing," Duo sneered.

"When did this happen?" Trowa asked.

"Two years ago. Took me awhile to meet up with the Inquisitor again, but I gave him a memento of my own."

Duo had tied the man up and carved an eagle into his forehead before killing him. The Mysians liked to lay out the bodies of their dead, dressed in white, their faces bare for the mourners to see. He had watched the funeral for the Inquisitor, and he had felt immense satisfaction when he saw the body was completely wrapped, head to toe, in white linen.

Trowa reached out and lightly traced the head of the eagle, just over Duo's heart. He forced himself to hold still. He desperately wanted to lean into the touch – the urge to do so was almost as strong as his urge to flee, and he found himself able only to stand, frozen in place.

"You're ashamed of it," Trowa concluded.

"I'm ashamed of a lot of things," Duo pointed out. He stepped back, unable to bear the firm and yet strangely gentle press of Trowa's fingers on his scarred flesh any longer.

"You shouldn't be," Heero argued.

Duo glared at him.

"This mark – the Mysians use it to mock the faith of the priests who defy them. The men who die with this carved into their chests are… martyrs. I'm not. They came for me, and they tortured me, and I _repented_. I cursed the God of Death and I turned my back on my God. And yes, I _am_ ashamed of that."

* * *

Up Next: Duo's first kiss! (Sorry, it's going to be another Duo POV chapter too)

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Chapter 8**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Eight

The next morning Duo dressed with care.

He had spent the remainder of the night, after the assassination attempt and after he literally bared his soul to Heero and Trowa, in the archives. Trowa, two Royal Guards, and Hellas had kept him company – and everyone involved had sworn to never tell Wufei that both Trowa and a dog had spent the night in the Archives.

It had been surprisingly restful – the two guards had remained silent and kept their posts by the archive entrance. Trowa had picked up some ancient tome, propped his feet up on one of the research tables, and quickly became absorbed in whatever he was reading. Duo had spent a few hours prowling the stacks, walking off his anxiety and frustration, before finally settling down with a with text on the lost kingdom of Ios.

No one had made any comment to Duo's admission of guilt during the Inquisition, and he couldn't help but feel that both men were judging him, likely as harshly as Duo was judging himself.

It was dawn before Heero tracked them down to announce that Duo's quarters were clean again, and he reluctantly returned to them, accompanied by the two guards.

It was impossible for Duo to sleep – he could smell the recent deaths in the room even if the evidence was gone – but Hellas quickly curled up between his legs, her small head resting on his knee, and was asleep in moments. Which left Duo alone with his thoughts for the next few hours.

Heero planned to inform the King and Solo of the assassination attempt later that morning, and Duo had demanded to be present. He had been surprised that Trowa also wanted to be there, since the Sentinel had little stake in Theran affairs. Perhaps he just wanted to make sure that his sleep was uninterrupted in the future?

Duo was convinced that his father and brother would overreact, and make this an excuse to declare war on Mysia. As much as Duo hated the Mysians, he had meant every word when he had spoken to Trowa when he first arrived – he did NOT want the freeworkers and commoners to suffer because the Theran royalty wanted to go to war. He planned to tell everyone exactly that.

He dressed in a rich blue velvet doublet and breeches, hoping to convey the image of a cool and confident prince. He didn't want them to feel that he needed protection or that he was weak – he _needed_ to be strong.

Before going to the meeting, Duo took Hellas down to the Royal Stables, where one of the stable boys had promised to keep an eye on the dog, and the rest of the litter, during the day.

His guards then escorted him to the King's private study, a room that Duo had not been in for fifteen years.

He was the last to arrive – Solo was leaning against the massive marble fireplace, a scowl firmly fixed on his face, while Gregory and Trowa were both sitting in chairs before the fire, and Heero stood at attention towards the side.

"How are you?" Gregory asked as soon as Duo walked into the room. The concern in his deep blue eyes ate at Duo. While he had made his peace with Solo, Gregory had _much_ to answer for, and Duo had yet to open up to his father.

"Perfectly fit," Duo assured him. He looked at Heero. "I assume you've already told him, then?"

Heero frowned, but then nodded.

Duo sighed.

"It's _not_ that big of a deal," he said, turning back to Gregory.

"Not – Duo, a Mysian assassin entered the palace and tried to _kill_ you!" Solo shouted.

"And failed, miserably. He managed to kill two of the Royal Guard – and that _is_ a tragedy."

Gregory frowned.

"Duo, your life is worth –"

"Don't you _dare_ say my life is worth more than theirs," Duo interrupted, his voice quiet and strained as he tried to keep from shouting. "Don't you dare. I may be your son, I may be the future king – but those men are Therans. THEY are the reason any of us matters at all – I don't give a damn about keeping me safe, I care about the fact that this situation led to the deaths of two good men and it's likely to lead to more."

Trowa was regarding him strangely. If Duo didn't know better, he would say that the look in his sharp green eyes was one of respect.

"They threatened the livelihood of those same Mysians by attacking you," Gregory said, his voice patient and a little patronizing. "We must strike back to show that we will _not_ tolerate it."

"If we strike back now, we'll just be signing the death warrants for more Therans. We can't start a war because one man tried to kill me!"

"I think Duo has a good point, Father," Solo spoke up, his voice sounding tired. "I'd like nothing more than the chance to shove a blade down Treize Khushrenada's gullet, but what if this entire assassination attempt – aside from killing Duo – was also a ploy to provoke us into war?"

Gregory frowned, but Duo shot his brother a grateful look. Solo winked back at him.

"So you think we should do nothing? We've already disposed of the evidence – perhaps we should simply cover it up? That would feed disinformation to them… perhaps cause Treize to doubt himself…" Gregory mused.

"No," Trowa spoke up. All eyes turned to him.

"Sorry, this really is none of my business, as has been pointed out," he shot an amused look at Heero, who scowled back at him. Duo wondered if they had argued about this.

"Both my son and myself have long valued your opinions, Trowa. That you choose to share them is an honor that we – that I certainly do not deserve."

Trowa's shoulders tensed, but after a moment he shrugged.

"In any case, I think that all of you are missing the point. Mysia sent an assassin to kill Duo and he survived. He, single handedly, saved his own life."

Heero frowned.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if you want to demoralize the Mysians, you've already got the perfect weapon. Duo killed their Grand Inquisitor and he killed their assassin. I think you should let _everyone_ know about it. We all knew that they would try to kill him, and this won't be the last assassination attempt – but you can _use_ this. The Therans need something to believe in. They need to know that spring isn't going to bring a meaningless season of battles against Mysia – they need to know that they have a prince - two princes – who want to fight FOR them, who will defend Thera with their very lives."

Solo arched an eyebrow.

"Are you saying we should _advertise_ the fact that Duo was almost killed by a Mysian assassin in his own bedchamber?"

"I'm saying you should spread the word that Duo, by himself, defeated a Mysian assassin sent to kill him. Remind the Mysians that this is the same Duo who killed their Grand Inquisitor, and remind the Therans that this is the same prince they've waited for for the last fifteen years."

Even Duo was impressed with the plan.

"It will only encourage the Mysians to try again," Heero growled.

"Which they were going do anyway," Duo pointed out. "This at least puts them on the defensive – we _need_ to show them that we aren't going to be tricked into a war and that we aren't scared."

Heero sighed.

"I've got plans to revise the guard protection. For all of you. I don't want Duo to ever _have_ to save himself again. It isn't his job."

Duo frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but Trowa gave him a warning look.

Gregory sighed.

"Very well. Allow your men to discuss what happened, I'm sure word will filter through the palace and to whatever spies the Mysians have soon enough. I will mention it to a few of the guild masters at the meeting this afternoon." He looked at Duo. "I trust you to work with Heero to ensure that every possible precaution is taken with your life."

Duo looked over at the Captain of the Guards and then nodded.

"Of course."

"Then, come, we should break our evening fast in the hall together, so that everyone can witness your excellent health."

Gregory stood and swept from the room. Solo instantly fell into step behind him, but Duo hesitated, wanting to speak with Heero and Trowa, needing to know what they thought of him. But Solo turned, grabbed his shoulder, and propelled him forward.

"C'mon, little brother," Solo said. "We've got a show to put on."

Duo quickly realized that a show was _exactly_ the best way to describe breakfast. Solo spent the entire time lounging back in his chair, cracking jokes about fire implements and Mysians. Several times he loudly warned Duo to stay back or to keep his temper in check – he even mockingly pleaded that Duo spare his life at one point.

It was incredibly irritating to Duo, and Gregory could barely manage to smile tolerantly, but the courtiers assembled in the hall ate it up. Before the meal was over it was clear that the tale of Duo defeating his assassin had spread among them and would no doubt spread through Thera by that afternoon.

He was more grateful than ever before to escape the hall and join Meilin for his morning fencing practice. Aside from giving him a single, concerned look, she didn't mention the subject of his brush with death.

Duo threw himself into practicing the intricate steps Meilin showed him, blocking out all else in the world and tried to concentrate on _only_ his footwork.

He was so successful that he didn't realize Ralph had joined them until the man spoke up and startled Duo so badly he tripped and fell flat on his face.

Both Meilin and Ralph burst out laughing, and Duo glared at them as he picked himself up and brushed at the dirt and frost on his breeches.

"Sorry," Ralph said, still smirking, "I suppose I should be grateful we aren't near a fireplace, you might have stabbed me."

Duo narrowed his eyes at the Sentinel. He knew that he would likely hear those jokes for the next… forever, but it made him feel slightly dirty, to hear a man's death so openly ridiculed. Not to mention the deaths of the two guards who had lost their lives protecting Duo.

"I wondered if you wanted a sparring partner," Ralph added after a moment. He nodded at Meilin. "You have an excellent teacher, but some things… you just need to practice with another person."

Duo arched an eyebrow at Meilin, who shrugged.

"It would be helpful for you, and it isn't as though I can fight against you." She rubbed at her belly and then sighed. "And honestly, in a few weeks, I'm not sure I will even be able to help you. After she's born, I don't know – I'm not abandoning you, Duo, but –"

"I know," he interrupted when she started to look guilty. "I know." He looked back at Ralph. "And we did agree to a rematch," he mused.

Ralph chuckled. "We'll put that off for a while, until I've seen all of your moves and know how you fight." He winked at Duo.

Duo snorted. "As if _that_ will help you."

He spent the rest of the morning going through the footwork again, but this time with Ralph opposite him, and it helped enormously, just having an opponent to focus on as he moved.

By the time they stopped for lunch, Duo was able to put last night's events at the back of his mind. They would have stayed there, safely tucked away, if Quatre hadn't tracked him down in the archives that afternoon.

"Duo, are you okay? I've been looking for you since Solo first told me after breakfast."

Duo frowned at the man as he sat down across from him.

"I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."

Quatre rolled his eyes.

"I know that. But that doesn't – Duo, a man tried to kill you. In your bedchamber. Two men died to save you."

"I was there," Duo hissed. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat at the thought. He needed to ask Heero who the guards had been. Maybe there was something he could do for their families?

"You're allowed to be upset by it," Quatre continued.

"I'm not," Duo assured him. "I feel perfectly fine. It happened, it's over."

Quatre's face fell, and Duo knew he had lashed out at him in anger, when Quatre had merely tried to be comforting. He sighed.

"I appreciate your concern," he added. But he couldn't deal with, not in these circumstances, and not right now, when all he could think about was the dead weight of those guards in his arms.

He rose from his chair and left the archives, Quatre and the pile of books on his table, and made his way up to the battlements.

It was bitingly cold up, with the freezing air needling his skin and the wind blowing strong. Within moments he felt numb, and it was exactly what he wanted.

"If you freeze to death they Mysians will laugh their asses off."

Duo looked up at the sound of Heero's voice.

The Captain approached him and handed him a fur lined cloak. Duo frowned at it.

"For the cold," Heero explained.

Duo started to wrap it around himself, but noticed that Heero made no move to leave. He also hadn't brought a cloak for himself. Duo sighed.

"If you're staying you might as well take some of this, it's big enough for both of us," Duo pointed out. He unclasped the neck of the cloak and held one side up. After a moment Heero joined him. They had to press together to fit, Duo's left side and Heero's right touching from shoulder to knee.

"The first time a man under my command died I was a few years older than you," Heero said after a few minutes of silence. "We were on campaign in the South."

"The Guards were?"

Heero shook his head.

"No. Every Guard is drawn from the army. You have to commit four years to protecting Thera before you can be deemed worthy to protect her rulers. I was leading a scouting unit – just six of us in all – along the edge of the Mysian encampment. We were ambushed and Steven, my second, was injured almost immediately." Heero shook his head. "He shouted at us to escape while he stayed back to fight them off. I tried to help him, I wanted – I should have been the one to die for my men, not my men for me." Heero closed his eyes and Duo resisted the urge to reach out to him. "It was a hard lesson to learn."

"What lesson?"

"That as a leader of men you have to sacrifice some to save the rest."

Duo frowned.

"It's not the same."

"Yes it is. Thom and Gary _knew_ that by guarding your life they might lose their own. They accepted that risk and they were proud to have the honor of protecting you."

Duo opened his mouth to argue.

"Don't think back on their loss as something you could have prevented. It wasn't."

"It isn't right for those men to die for _me_. I'm nothing!"

"You're their prince. You are e _verything_."

Duo shook his head.

"They had the courage to die for their beliefs, Heero. I – you've seen me now. You _know_ that I'm a coward."

"I told you before, I won't tolerate you insulting my prince," Heero growled.

Duo scowled, remembering how Heero had attacked him for insulting Solo.

"I'm not Solo. I'm –"

"You were seventeen!" Heero interrupted, practically shouting. "You were being _tortured_ and you were a child! You were completely alone in the world. Everyone you have ever known was dead – or hundreds of miles away in Thera thinking _you_ were dead. Of course you repented! You were a _child_ ," he repeated. "You should have been here, learning bad pick up lines from Solo and dodging tutors. You should never have been in a Mysian dungeon."

Duo shook his head. "But I _was_. And all those people who died – who died because of _me_ – I turned my back on them!"

"No, you didn't. Those priests sacrificed their lives to keep you safe. They knew, the moment they offered you shelter, that their very lives would be forfeit if the Mysians found them. They knew that just by worshiping their God they would be killed. They _gave_ their lives. You didn't ask, and you didn't take. They _gave_."

"And just look how I wasted their sacrifice!" Duo started to stand, but Heero pulled him back down.

"You killed a man responsible for the torture and death of hundreds. You _have_ honored their sacrifice and you will continue to do so. They _knew_ that you were a Theran prince. They _knew_ that one day you would have the chance to avenge them, to make things right. You couldn't have done that if you had died at the hands of a Mysian executioner. How would your death have honored them?"

"They wanted you to live," Heero continued, not waiting for Duo's response. "I _promise_ they did."

"I don't want people to die for me," Duo said. He looked at Heero. He needed him to understand.

"And that's why they _will_ want to," Heero replied. "You care that they died for you. You value human life and you value the lives of Therans so much. That's how it's supposed to be. They are your people, but you are also _theirs_. You have to give them the honor of fighting for you and for themselves."

"But they don't know – they don't know how painful fighting can be."

"You do," Heero pointed out. "Let your experience guide you. Follow your emotions, but don't let fear cripple you. You aren't a coward – you aren't afraid for your own life, I know that. But you're terrified of people dying for a cause that you don't believe in. You."

Duo snorted.

"Well, yeah."

"I'll say it one last time, and then I really might have to kill you. Don't insult my prince. I will defend his life and honor with my own, and I won't sit here and listen to you tell lies about him. My prince in honorable, and brave, and a damned tricky fighter. He's passionate, and he loves his people. He has earned my respect."

Duo swallowed hard at the look of seriousness in Heero's blue eyes. After a moment he had to look away and shake his head.

"You know, I should have you brought up on insubordination or something. You can't threaten to kill me _and_ say you'll defend my life in the same sentence," Duo joked.

Heero rolled his eyes.

"We should go inside before you freeze," Heero suggested.

Duo took off the cloak and gave it back to the other man.

"Thank you."

"Of course, my prince," Heero said and there was something about the way he said MY that sent shivers down Duo's spine.

* * *

That night, hours after Duo had retired to his bedchamber, he found that he couldn't sleep. His thoughts were no longer plagued with guilt over the deaths of the guards – he would never forget their sacrifice, but Heero was right. He could not allow himself to be crippled by fear.

Instead, all he could think about was the sound of Heero's voice, which naturally drew his thoughts to his memories of Heero and Trowa together.

The door to his chamber suddenly opened, and Duo reached for the dagger under his pillow.

His heart racing, Duo waited for his guest to walk into his line of sight.

"Sorry to bother you," Trowa growled.

Duo relaxed when the Sentinel stepped closer to the bed.

"Um…" he noticed the bundle of clothes and weapons in Trowa's arms.

"Heero insists on guarding you himself tonight."

"Really?" When Duo had entered his chambers hours ago he had recognized Alex standing guard with another man. He wondered when they had switched and Heero had taken over.

"Our bed is freezing without him in it."

Duo frowned, but before he could ask Trowa what that had to do with _him_ , the Sentinel deposited his bundle on one of the chairs by the fireplace. He drew his sword from the rest of his belongings and laid it down on the floor on the opposite side of the bed from Duo before starting to strip.

"So you're sleeping with me?" Duo guessed. He fought to keep his gaze on Trowa's face.

The Sentinel looked amused.

"Yes."

"Okay…"

"I don't snore," Trowa assured him. Once naked he climbed under the blankets and immediately encountered Hellas, who had claimed that side of the bed as her own.

Trowa smirked and shifted the puppy over so that she was closer to Duo.

"Heero doesn't mind?" Duo asked, looking towards the door. HE would certainly mind, if he was Heero. But then – why? It wasn't as if either man viewed him as anything more than, at best, an acquaintance, and at worst, a burden. _They_ didn't' fantasize about him naked, especially now that they had actually seen him naked.

"Oh, he minds very much," Trowa assured him. He pulled the blankets up to his chin and laid down on his side, facing Duo.

"Really?" Maybe Duo had been wrong.

"He thinks having _me_ in here will interfere with his precious guards schedule that he's concocted.

"Oh." Or he had been right all along. Duo sighed. "Right. Well, if an assassin _does_ try to kill me in my sleep, I wouldn't mind some help."

Trowa chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind." He rolled over. "Good night."

It seemed that within moments the Sentinel was asleep, but it took Duo far longer. He actually envied Hellas, who, from her spot between them, had stretched out so that her cold, wet nose was buried under Duo's braid and her back legs were stretched out to touch Trowa's back.

The Gods really did hate him, he decided, to present him with such temptation. Having Trowa in his bed, naked, inches away – and completely uninterested in him in any way – was akin to torture.

* * *

The next morning he woke to find Trowa and his belongings gone. He squashed his immediate feeling of disappointment and forced himself to put the man out of his mind as he went through his morning ablutions.

On his way to find Meilin, however, Trowa intercepted him near the Royal Stables.

"I thought I'd show you how to shoot," Trowa said. He had a bow and a quiver of arrows in one hand, and a canvas target slung across his back.

Duo frowned.

"I'm not…I haven't ever used a bow."

"Then it's time you learned," Trowa assured him. "Therans don't have a great tradition of archers, but in my experience, the more weapons you have at your disposal, the better your chances of surviving."

Duo found himself nodding along with that sentiment.

"Come on." Trowa leapt one of the pasture fences and Duo followed him. "We – my Sentinels – use the far pasture as an archery range when we stay here."

"Why don't Therans have a tradition of archers?" Duo asked as they walked.

Trowa shrugged.

"No one has a tradition in it quite as strong as Kos – well, Ios did, but now only Kos seems to care about it. Archers can attack from a distance – they're an excellent defensive unit, especially with high walled cities like Antioch."

"What do we use instead?"

"Pikemen," Trowa sneered. "Idiotic defensive unit. You have to put them outside the city walls, so immediately they are cut off from support. And they can't attack – only defend. With archers you get both defensive and offensive capabilities."

"I've been reading about the fall of Ios," Duo said. He noticed Trowa's shoulders immediately stiffen. "Edessa, the capital, was under siege for six months before it fell."

Trowa nodded. "They say the archers finally ran out of arrows – they'd used everything they could find to make new ones, even bones from the recently dead."

They reached the far pasture and Trowa set up the canvas target against one of the posts.

He handed the bow and an arrow to Duo.

"Show me how you _think_ you shoot an arrow," he said.

"You might want to stand behind me," Duo muttered.

Trowa smirked but moved to stand a few feet behind Duo on his left.

With a sigh, Duo tried to imitate the stance he had seen the Sentinels use that day he had attacked the caravan. Most of them had been on horseback, but a few had been on foot. He fit the notched end of the arrow to the string and pulled it back. He was momentarily shocked by how much effort it took to draw it back to his ear. His arms wobbled as he fought to keep the bow steady, and then he released the arrow.

It landed a dozen feet away from the target, closer to one of the Sentinel's horses than to the canvas.

"Okay." Trowa looked like he was struggling to keep a straight face.

Duo glared at him.

"The amount of sarcasm and irony you put in one word is overwhelming," he muttered.

Trowa actually chuckled at that, but he stepped forward.

"It wasn't the worst first attempt I've ever seen," he said. "Now, draw the bow again."

"Do I need an arrow?" Duo asked.

Trowa shook his head.

"Not yet."

Duo sighed and turned away from Trowa. He spread his legs apart and drew the bowstring back as far as he could.

"Let's start with your stance. You can relax your arm for now."

Duo did as instructed and waited for more direction, but instead he felt Trowa step up behind him.

The Sentinel nudged Duo's legs further apart with his own legs.

Duo swallowed hard at the feeling of the other man's body pressed against his, and then he momentarily forgot how to breathe when Trowa wrapped his arms around Duo.

"Try to relax – you're tensing your muscles too much," Trowa instructed. His hot breath was just above Duo's ear, and he shuddered at the sensation.

Trowa put each of his hands over Duo's.

"Draw back the bowstring – I want to feel how much tension you are using," Trowa said.

Duo swallowed hard and followed directions. The feeling of Trowa's warm body wrapped around his and his long fingers skimming over Duo's was not helpful for his concentration.

"Hm. Okay, this time, just relax, I'll do the work. See if you can feel the difference."

Trowa guided Duo's hands back together and then pulled the string back again.

"Can you tell the difference?" Trowa asked.

Duo nodded. He didn't really trust himself to speak.

"Okay, let's try this with an arrow."

Trowa stepped away, and Duo drew in a deep breath. His comfort quickly evaporated however, when Trowa stepped back behind him and adopted the same position.

"Again, I'll do the work – just try to feel what I'm doing," Trowa said.

Duo thought that if Trowa said 'feel' one more time, he couldn't be held responsible for his actions. All he wanted to do was _feel_. He wanted Trowa's hands on his bare skin, his lips covering Duo's own, and his strong, muscled body wrapped around Duo's.

He blamed Heero, for even putting it into his head that he should pursue the path that his emotions led him own. He seriously doubted that the Captain had been encouraging Duo to make a move on Trowa - or Heero – but now, that was all he could consider doing. Only his fear of rejection kept him in check.

"Ready?" Trowa asked.

"Yeah," Duo croaked.

Trowa notched the arrow and then drew their linked hands back in one smooth, effortless motion. He held the bow steady for a moment and then let the arrow fly.

Duo wasn't at all amazed when it landed in the center of the target.

"Now you try again," Trowa instructed. He handed Duo another arrow.

For a moment, Duo thought that Trowa would step away, but instead Trowa just pressed closer, so that his front was against Duo's back. His arms were looser over Duo's, but his hands remained resting just on top of Duo's. It was literally impossible to think about the bow and arrow.

"Fuck this." Duo dropped both into the snow and turned around in Trowa's arms.

The Sentinel's green eyes widened with surprise.

"What –"

Duo leaned up and kissed him. It was clumsy, and he knew his lips were probably freezing and chapped and he had NO idea what he was doing.

Trowa's lips were firm and warm and completely unmoving.

Realizing the futility of his gesture, Duo pulled away.

"I'm sorry." He stepped back, and Trowa allowed him, his arms falling away and leaving Duo feeling suddenly very cold.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"Sorry because you threw my second best bow into the snow or because that was probably the worst kiss? Of all time, ever?"

Duo felt his face flush. He bent to grab the bow and handed it back to Trowa.

"Sorry. I – yeah, it wasn't amazing."

Trowa looked expectant.

"It was my first kiss!" Duo practically shouted at him. "I'm sorry that it doesn't live up to your high expectations or –"

Duo was abruptly cut off by Trowa's lips descending onto his.

This kiss was very different from the first. Trowa's lips were still firm and warm, but they moved over Duo's, coaxing his own lips to part before he slipped his tongue inside Duo's mouth. Feeling the brush of it against his own, Duo leaned in, eager for more contact.

Trowa's hands moved to cup his face, and Duo realized that this was the most human contact – outside of torture – that he could ever recall having. It was significantly better than torture, however. Significantly better than anything he had ever before experienced.

He could smell the spicy hint of whatever soap Trowa and Heero both seemed to use, and Duo decided that it was his favorite scent.

Eventually, Trowa eased away, leaving Duo feeling a little dazed. He was gratified that Trowa's breathing seemed to be almost as ragged as his own.

"My first kiss," Trowa said after a moment, his lips quirking into a smile, "was horrible, too. I bit Heero's tongue accidentally, and when he jerked back he broke my nose with his chin." Trowa shook his head. "It took a little while before we were willing to try again."

Duo frowned.

"So _how_ was mine worse? Neither of us is bleeding!"

Trowa shrugged.

"True, but at least then, with Heero, I felt s _omething_. Your kiss…" Trowa shook his head. "Nothing."

Duo looked away. Of course Trowa would think that breaking bones was more pleasant than kissing him. He doubted that second kiss had been much of an improvement for Trowa – after all, Duo was _not_ Heero. Duo wondered why Trowa had even bothered to kiss him at all – maybe it was out of pity?

"Right. Well, sorry again. I –"

"You didn't enjoy it? The second time?" Trowa interrupted.

Duo glared at him.

"What the hell do _you_ think? It was only the most amazing experience of my life, so, yes, I enjoyed it. But it doesn't matter. I'm not Heero, it meant nothing to you, you felt nothing, and – I don't want your pity!" He started to stalk off.

"Duo," Trowa moved to intercept him, catching his arm and stopping him. "It _does_ matter. And it meant something, and I sure as hell felt something." He shook his head. "And it wasn't pity."

"Then what was it?"

"I – I don't know. You just looked completely miserable. I had to kiss you, to show you that it could be better."

"Thanks for the instruction. You're a great teacher." Duo pulled his arm free. He sighed." It's cold. Mind if we work on archery another day?"

Trowa's gaze was searching, but Duo kept his face blank. He wanted to put this entire incident behind him and never think about it again.

Except that he couldn't help but look at Trowa's lips and remember how they felt.

"Of course," Trowa said eventually.

"Great. Thanks." Duo turned on his heel and started back towards the castle. So much, he thought bitterly, for following his emotions.

* * *

Up Next: Quatre intervenes…again.

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 9: Chapter 9**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: My apologies for the very obvious Harry Potter quote… but I just had to!

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Nine

After wandering around Antioch for a few hours, Trowa found himself at Maeve's Tavern in the early afternoon. It was mostly abandoned, save for a handful of poets who scribbled furiously on parchment, obviously hard at work writing their next masterpiece.

After the barmaid plunked a tankard of beer in front of him, Trowa was left blissfully alone and he tried to sort through his thoughts.

He should have known. In retrospect, he should have _known_ that Duo was attracted to him. Anticipating that Duo would act on that attraction, however, was something that Trowa never would have deemed possible. And he should have just left it at that first kiss – made some joke about it and walked away.

But he hadn't been able to. Duo had looked stricken after the kiss, as though all of his faith had been crushed, and Trowa had _needed_ to show him that it could be better. And it had been, much, _much_ better.

That second kiss had been full of fire, and passion, and the exhilarating excitement of exploration.

In retrospect he should have _known_ that he was attracted to Duo. He should have _known_ that kissing him once – twice really, but the first _really_ didn't count in Trowa's mind – would only make him want to kiss the prince more.

Of course he had done an _excellent_ job of convincing Duo that he had no interest in him, whatsoever. He only wished that he could do half as good a job convincing himself.

It had been a mistake to share his bed last night. When Trowa had woken early in the morning he had discovered that both Duo and the puppy, Hellas, had shifted over to his side of the bed. The puppy had tangled herself in his feet, and Duo had apparently decided that Trowa's chest made a better pillow than the overstuffed, silk covered, feather pillows already on his bed.

Attempting to teach Duo how to shoot a bow had been pure torture – partly because Duo truly showed no aptitude with the weapon, and partly because having his lithe body pressed against Trowa's had completely wrecked Trowa's concentration and his objectivity.

He blamed the entire situation on Duo – it was _his_ fault for being so damned irresistible. It was beyond comprehension that the boy had survived all that he had, and it wasn't fair to Trowa, to be presented with this broken and yet inexplicably amazing man.

Trowa bashed his head against the table a few times. He could not believe this was happening to him. His life was perfect as it was – he had his position with the Sentinels, he had _Heero_. He did not _need_ to get involved with Duo, and he certainly didn't want to get attached to him.

Duo had been nothing but trouble for Trowa from the start, and he failed to see how indulging in a physical attraction to him would make their tangled relationship any less troublesome.

Except, if he was honest with himself, Trowa had to admit that it wasn't a mere physical attraction. He enjoyed Duo's company and he wanted the man for far more than a romp on a cold winter night.

As he finished off his beer the poets started to rouse themselves from their corner, clearly preparing to share their genius with the rest of the tavern.

Ordinarily Trowa would have remained to hear them, but he was in no mood for ribald poetry today.

When he returned to the palace he sought out Ralph, hoping the man would fence with him. He needed physical activity to take his mind off of Duo.

As though the gods were trying to punish him, Trowa found Ralph with Duo and the two men dueling under the supervision of Meilin. They were using real blades, and it looked as though neither man were holding back during the fight.

Trowa frowned. He and Heero sparred with real blades – as did he and Ralph, but they had practiced together for years and knew exactly how the other moved. It was dangerous for Duo and Ralph to be doing it, and Trowa planted himself out of their sight, intent on watching over the duel until it ended.

Duo had definitely improved in his swordsmanship. He had always been quick, and he was learning how to use his speed and slight frame to his advantage, easily ducking under most of Ralph's attacks and able to move around him and force Ralph to constantly be on the defensive and anticipate an attack from any direction.

It was clear that Meilin was proud of her pupil's progress – she was beaming as she watched Duo parry several lunges from Ralph before disarming him and resting his blade against the other man's throat.

"Well done!" She exclaimed.

Duo grinned at her and then dropped his blade and helped Ralph back up to his feet.

"Thanks. I needed that," Duo told the other man.

Ralph looked a little abashed. "I could have done without it, but I suppose I'm happy to help." He grinned. "You could soothe my bruised ego by stopping over at the tavern with us tonight."

Duo frowned.

"Us?"

Ralph scratched the side of his neck where Duo had rested his sword.

"Well, me, really."

Duo's eyes widened, and it would have been comical, watching him realize that Ralph was expressing interest in him, if Trowa wasn't battling his OWN interest in the prince.

"Oh, er, well… I'm pretty sure Heero'd have my head if I went off drinking so soon after the assassination attempt." Duo frantically looked at Meilin, as though for help.

"You _did_ promise to have dinner with Wufei and me tonight, in any case," she pointed out.

"Right! Right. I, um, I completely forgot about that." He turned back to Ralph. "Sorry."

"Some other time? Maybe when it's safer and you are free to pursue your own… interests."

Duo flushed but nodded.

Ralph was smirking as he walked away, and Trowa ruthlessly suppressed his jealousy.

"What the hell was that about?" Duo muttered to Meilin after Ralph was gone.

"That would be someone trying to get in your pants, you moron."

"I caught that part, thanks. I'm just – what a crazy day." Duo shook his head.

Meilin arched an eyebrow.

"How so?"

Duo hung his head.

"It's nothing. I just – anyway, I'm sorry that I missed our session this morning. I appreciate you meeting me now, though."

"Of course. Wufei is busy trying to solve the mystery of how dog hairs found their way into the pages of a few of his precious books, so I had some free time."

"Yeah…" Duo flushed again. "I hope he figures it out."

"Mm. Me too." The amused look in her eyes made it clear that she knew exactly how the hairs had gotten into the books.

As the two of them walked off Trowa contemplated catching up to them and trying to talk to Duo. But it was clear that _he_ at least, had been able to put aside the events of the morning, and Trowa was loathe to bring up the undoubtedly sensitive subject.

"Trowa."

He turned to see Heero approaching and he felt a sense of relief. Heero's ability to look at any situation with cold, distant logic was something that Trowa had always valued. Perhaps he would be able to help Trowa get over this needless infatuation.

"Enjoy your guard duty last night?" Trowa teased him.

"I'm sure not nearly as much as you enjoyed your new sleeping quarters," Heero growled.

Trowa shrugged. "Temporary, until _you_ realize that standing outside of his room isn't going to keep the assassins away."

Heero started to argue, but Trowa continued over him.

"It's pointless for _you_ to guard him at night. They won't try that again, not yet anyway. They'll try a new tactic first, and having you out of the rotation while he's active during the day isn't the best way to protect him."

"He's most vulnerable while he's asleep."

Trowa couldn't argue that, especially since he had _seen_ Duo asleep. He had looked like the boy he was, young and peaceful, and none of the darkness of his waking thoughts had clouded his brow. It had definitely been a mistake to share his bed.

Trowa sighed.

"Something happened with Duo this morning," Trowa said.

"In his bed?"

"No, no, this was after. I tried to teach him – it doesn't matter. I kissed him."

Heero's face went blank.

"He kissed me first – terrible kiss, I mean, truly pathetic. So I kissed him to show – damn it to hell, Heero, I can't get him out of my head."

"I see."

Trowa frowned.

"That's not… much of a response."

"Are you asking my permission? To pursue him? You don't need it. We agreed, when we started this, that if we weren't – you've been with other men before."

" _You_ haven't," Trowa pointed out, and it was a bitter point between them.

When he and Heero had first starting their relationship the Theran had made it clear to Trowa that he didn't expect him to stop seeing the other men he had been involved with over the years. The fact that Heero wasn't involved with anyone else, and had never expressed interest in _anyone_ other than Trowa made him feel incredibly guilty. Three years ago Trowa's only real relationship, outside of his with Heero, had ended, and he hadn't been with another man since.

"I don't -" Heero caught himself and shrugged. "I've only ever wanted you."

"And I'm the selfish, greedy bastard who wants more."

Heero scowled at him.

"I've never said that, and I've certainly never believed it."

"And yet it bothers you that I kissed Duo."

Heero was silent for a few minutes.

"I've dedicated my life to protecting the royal family. I regard Solo as not only my prince and a great man, but a true friend. Yet when the two of you were together – every night that you were in his bed and not mine – I hated him."

"You never said."

Heero shrugged. "Would it have mattered? I know what I am, and who you are –"

"No. Don't you _dare_ say that it had anything to do with –"

"Didn't it? I never begrudged you the chance to be with him because you deserved it! The life you were born into –"

"Is not my life now, and I don't _deserve_ him or – that's bullshit, Heero."

"Is it? Duo is a prince, the future _King_ of Thera. He's better than me, just like Solo, and you were –"

Trowa grabbed Heero's face and kissed him, a furious, open mouthed kiss that he poured his frustration into. Heero responded instantly, backing Trowa up into the wall and kissing him back just as forcefully until a need for oxygen forced them apart.

They were both breathing heavily, and Trowa was tempted to just end the argument now and take Heero to bed – a proven method for making both of them forget their anger with each other.

"No one is better than you, Heero. You are the best man I've ever known, and you're so damned noble that it drives me insane. I never would have left you for Solo. Even if Quatre hadn't come along and forced an end to us – I never felt about him like I do you. I love you, and you _know_ that. Of all the things I've lost in my life, losing you would be the hardest. I'm not – it's nothing, this attraction to Duo. I –"

"I want him, too," Heero interrupted, his words little more than a growl.

"Wh – what?"

"You aren't the only one of us attracted to him. He's infuriating and annoying and I'd happily strangle him if he wasn't my future king, but none of that changes the fact that I _want_ him." Heero shook his head and stepped back from Trowa. "You are the only man I've had a relationship with, and I've never been interested in sharing anyone else's bed, and I don't know _why_ he's different, but I look at him and I want him. So how's that for my damned nobility?"

"So you're mad at me because you're… jealous that he kissed me and not you?"

"No. Yes. I'm mad at you because of all the things I'VE lost, losing you would be the hardest, and I don't want to lose you to anyone, but I can't see how I _won't_ lose you to him because he's irresistible. And yes, I'm mad because he didn't kiss me. Because I was too cowardly to kiss _him_."

"Huh."

Heero glared at him.

"No, I'm sorry, this just… well, this wasn't really how I pictured this conversation going with you." Trowa sighed. "In any case, it doesn't matter – for me – I went and botched things up. He's convinced that I hate him or something, so… you should swoop in, at least _one_ of us should get what we want," he finished bitterly.

"He isn't interested in me. He's interested in _you_ ," Heero pointed out. "And I can't blame him."

"For the love of – Heero, I am _nothing_ special. You are the only one who sees any value in me as something other than a pathetic king without a kingdom. And if he isn't interested in you then I can certainly blame him. And _you_ are the one always talking about following your damned emotions, so why don't you take your own advice?"

"He is my prince. I can't just – and you _are_ more than a king without a kingdom and you know that."

Trowa groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"This is a ridiculous fight. Can we just go inside where it's warm and forget any of this ever happened?"

Heero hesitated and then shrugged.

"Hard to believe that a few weeks ago we hated the bastard and _now_ we want him in our bed." Heero shook his head and started to walk back to the castle. Trowa fell into step beside him.

"He's nothing like Solo," Trowa felt the need to say. "I'm not trying to _replace_ –"

"I know," Heero interrupted him. "He isn't anything like Solo – and that's why I…panicked."

"In any case, how do you feel about going back to your quarters and continuing what we started earlier?" Trowa suggested.

Heero arched an eyebrow.

"I should –" he caught himself on a yawn and Trowa shook his head.

"Pathetic. When's the last time you even _slept_?"

Heero frowned.

"I'm fine."

"Really? Because you just _yawned_ at the prospect of sex, with _me_."

Heero rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry to bruise your fragile ego."

"Come on, I'm tucking you in."

"I'm not –"

"Yes, you are." Trowa gave him a gentle shove back in the direction of the castle.

"I need to check in with Alex and Trant first, inspect the guard shifts, and –"

"Fine. I'm coming with you and you're going to bed as soon as possible."

Heero glared, but Trowa matched it with one of his own, and the Theran captain sighed in defeat.

"Very well."

It was time for the evening meal when Trowa finally convinced Heero to rest for a few hours before he took over guarding Duo for the night.

Trowa decided to stop by the kitchens and grab something to eat.

On his way there, however, he was intercepted by an irate Quatre.

"Trowa," the blonde greeted him through gritted teeth.

He arched an eyebrow, amused and intrigued to see Quatre so angry. The blonde man was normally unflappable, and it took a lot to stir his temper – a good thing for anyone involved in a relationship with someone as volatile as Solo.

"Quatre," Trowa greeted him. "How are you on this fine evening?"

"Oh, I'm _delightful_. How are you? I missed you at the evening meal."

Trowa shrugged. "Heero and I had other things scheduled."

Quatre's eyes narrowed.

"I see."

"And now I was on my way to the kitchens, to find something to eat…" Trowa started to walk past him, but Quatre fell into step beside him.

"I never understood you and Solo," Quatre said. "I honestly don't know _what_ he saw in you."

Trowa fought to keep his face neutral to the blonde man's words. When Quatre had first arrived in Thera, years ago, and Solo had first laid eyes on him, Trowa had KNOWN that the prince would leave him. Considering that his own relationship with Solo was less of a romantic one and more of a very complicated and intimate friendship, Trowa hadn't begrudged him the chance to be with someone he actually might fall in love with. It didn't mean, however, that TROWA fell for Quatre's blue eyes or his charm. Yes, the exotic blonde prince was amazingly kind, witty, and a decent fighter – but Trowa, and Heero, had known Solo since childhood, and all three men had suffered grave losses in their youth. It was clear that Quatre came from a very different world than theirs, and that he fit so easily into Solo's like constantly irked Trowa.

He had long suspected that Quatre was as wary of him as he was of the blonde, but both cared too much for Solo to ever make an issue of it. Apparently until now.

"I see," Trowa said, repeating Quatre's earlier words.

"You're a complete idiot, for one thing, and –"

"Am I?" Trowa couldn't help but be amused by the blonde's avenue for attack.

"Yes! Duo is a wonderful –"

"I thought we were talking about Solo."

Quatre glared.

" _He_ was a segue."

"Oh."

"The real issue is Duo. I have no idea w _hy_ , but he's crazy about you. Heero, I understand, but why he cares about _you_ is completely beyond me."

"Wait, wait. What?" Trowa stopped walking and turned to the shorter man. "What about Heero?"

"I _said_ I can understand why he's interested in Heero. What I don't understand is the attraction to _you_. Sure, you're nice to look at, but you're an idiot and have the emotional range of a teaspoon."

"I do not," Trowa immediately protested, but his mind had latched on to the information that Duo was attracted to _both_ he and Heero. He _never_ would have thought –

"… aren't even listening to me, are you?"

He shook himself and focused back on Quatre.

"No, I wasn't."

Quatre glared.

"I _said_ that you've destroyed his self-confidence. Would it have been so hard to just… try to be a human being for a few minutes and tell him you enjoyed kissing him?"

Trowa scowled.

"I didn't mean to -"

"Well, you did. Bad enough that he wants to be with you two, who couldn't communicate your feelings to save your life, but then –"

"Heero and I communicate just fine. Simply because we don't do it in front of others doesn't mean we don't communicate."

"Perhaps you _do_ communicate with each other, but what about the rest of the world?"

Trowa frowned.

"What about the rest of the world? It isn't anyone else's business how we feel about each other."

"What about how you feel about – by the Gods, Trowa, you lost your entire _kingdom_ and you never talk about it! Heero doesn't talk about his father or -"

"What could that possibly have to do with Duo?" Trowa fought down the insistent urge to walk away from this conversation. Discussing Ios was never easy for him, and he _did_ avoid it – for perfectly legitimate reasons. He also felt that by even suggesting that Heero should go around discussing his father Quatre was insulting the other man.

"I'm saying –"

"Let me through!"

Both men turned, startled by the loud, female voice echoing down the corridors.

Without speaking, they turned and headed towards the voice. Both men had spent enough time involved in palace intrigues to know when to shelve an argument.

They discovered the source of the voice near the Great Hall's entrance. It was a blood stained Hilde Schiebecker, and several guards were restraining her and seemed to be in the process of hauling her away.

"Wait." Quatre called out to them, and the guards stopped. "What's going on here?"

"Says she needs to see the King, but –"

"Who are you?" Quatre interrupted the guard who had spoken up and his blue gaze was far from friendly as he glared at the man.

"Val Trist, sir. The Captain gave orders that no one unfamiliar be allowed in past this point during –"

"She's the daughter of the Duke of Antioch," Trowa growled. "How can you not know her?"

"I, uh, well I've just returned from my service, you see, and just got promoted to the guard last week and this is my first –"

"Oh, f _ine_ ," Quatre interrupted him. "Let her go – you _do_ recognize me, don't you? And him?" He jerked a thumb in Trowa's direction.

"Yes, of course. I – "

"Thank you. Now let her go."

Val nodded and his men released Hilde. She stormed past them with a raised chin.

"You're covered in blood," Trowa informed her when she reached him.

" _Thank_ you, Trowa. Without your keen observational skills I doubt any of us could survive."

He smirked at her tone. Her expression, tense, drawn, and pale, relaxed just a bit and she bumped shoulders with him.

"I need to see the King, immediately."

"About the blood on your clothes," Trowa suggested.

" _Yes_ ," she growled.

"What –" Quatre started to ask.

"The South Pass is under attack."

"There have been reports of Mysian raids," Trowa agreed.

"No, attack – as in the Mysian First Army is currently laying siege to the fort. The settlers have had to abandon their homes, everyone is in the fort."

Trowa swore.

"Your brother?"

"Still alive. He sent Gus to tell the king, but he's – the Mysians spotted him, as he tried to ride away. He was in a bad way and he just barely made it to the city gates before he died. I –"

"His blood?" Trowa assumed.

Hilde nodded.

"I'm sorry. Gus was a good man."

"He was a _boy_. Barely twenty and –" she stopped and shook her head. "I need to speak to the King."

Quatre led them towards the royal quarters, and Trowa fell into step beside Hilde.

"Your brother is a smart man. He can hold his own." He had known Hilde and her older brother, Carl, from their childhood. As children of the Duke, they had been raised more or less at court, and Trowa counted Carl among his few close acquaintances. He had always had a soft spot for Hilde, who was simply too much her father's daughter to be happy with a settled, urban life as the Lady of Antioch.

Hilde nodded, but he could see the worry in her eyes.

Quatre led them to the Winter Gardens, where the King, Solo, Duo, and a few courtiers were gathered. They looked to be in the middle of a card game, and Trowa rolled his eyes. The King had few vices, but an addiction to card games was one of his worst. He was surprised to see Duo seated to the king's left, apparently enjoying the game.

Trowa stepped in front of Hilde, trying to hide her bloodied clothing from the courtiers sight. It wouldn't do to have wild rumors spreading through the castle.

"Ah!" The King boomed when he noticed them. "Join us, Hilde, Trowa, Quatre!"

"Your Majesty, there is a matter of _personal_ interest we wished to discuss," Quatre said.

The King frowned and then sighed.

"There always is. Very well, shall we continue our game another time?"

The courtiers instantly obeyed the dismissal, and abandoned the game and bowed their way out of the gardens.

Duo stood uneasily, clearly unsure what _he_ should do.

Trowa asked one of the Royal Guards, standing unobtrusively to one side, to fetch Heero from his quarters. He knew the Theran would want to be involved in this discussion.

"Very well, what is it?" The King asked once the gardens were empty.

Trowa stepped aside and allowed Hilde to approach him. Gregory's eyes widened at the sight of her.

"It's not my blood!" She instantly assured him.

"Then who –" Solo started.

"A messenger," she interrupted him. "From the South Pass."

Gregory's face turned very serious.

"Go on."

She drew in a deep breath.

"The South Pass is under attack. The settlers have retreated to the fort and there are under siege. My brother – he thinks he can hold them off for another one day, two at best."

Solo scowled.

"We couldn't get an army there in that amount of time. Not in this weather. It would take four – maybe even five days!"

She nodded in agreement.

"He knows. He –" she stopped when Heero entered.

His hair was a mess and he looked as though he had literally rolled out of bed and sprinted to the gardens. He was buttoning his uniform as he approached and hastily ran a hand through his hair when Trowa nodded towards it.

"Excuse my interruption," Heero said as he came to stand beside Trowa.

Hilde turned back to Gregory.

"He thinks any engagement with the Mysians would put our forces at a disadvantage. They will surely have taken the fort by the time reinforcements arrive, and he doubts the Mysians will linger in any case. Their army will be gone by the time ours even arrives."

"Damn Treize," the King muttered and rubbed his temples. He sighed and looked to Solo. "We can send the army to the Eastern Ridge, disrupt their own settlements? Or would the Southern Sea be a more visible target?"

Before Solo could respond, Duo jumped in.

"What about the settlers?"

Hilde frowned.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm asking what happens to the settlers? To the _Therans_ under siege?"

"The Mysians will kill or enslave them as they always do," Solo said.

"And that's – we're just _letting_ that happen?"

His question was met with silence.

Duo's jaw dropped and he looked over at Trowa, as if asking the Sentinel to help him.

"Duo," Gregory finally began, "this _is_ the way that wars go. We will avenge their deaths by –"

"By killing _their_ settlers on the Southern Sea or the Eastern Ridge! How is t _hat_ –"

"We won't kill them, we aren't barbarians," Solo interrupted.

"You'll burn their homes, take their livestock, and kick them off their fields. Won't you? It isn't as immediate as executing or enslaving them, but it's killing them all the same." He shook his head. "We can't simply _let_ them die!"

"Our army cannot reach them in time!" Solo shouted in frustration. "We have no choice! Our only option is to move before the Mysians fortify those two locations."

"No, our only option is to help the settlers in the South Pass," Duo argued. "Those free workers swore an oath to honor obey their king and in return we do _nothing_ for them?" He shook his head and started to walk from the room.

"Where are you going?" Solo demanded.

"To the South Pass," Duo called over his shoulder.

"For the love of – you are _not_ going there!" Solo caught Duo's arm and forced his younger brother to look at him. "You are _one_ man. You are the future king of Thera, you cannot –"

"I can and I will. I may only be one man, but it's my duty to help them! I can't simply sit here and – no. I am going."

Trowa sighed. The look on the prince's face was identical to the one he had worn when burying the bodies of the rebels, when Trowa and Heero had come across him weeks ago. It was the look of a man who was, in fact, physically incapable of fulfilling the task he set himself and yet committing himself to doing it anyway.

He looked over at Heero and saw that he was scowling, clearly recognizing the look as well.

"Duo, you will only arrive in time to bury their bodies," the King said, his deep voice placating.

It was the exact wrong thing to say, and Trowa jumped into the discussion before Duo had time to respond.

"The Sentinels have traveled that distance in a day. Even with these snows, if we leave now, we can –"

"You aren't seriously –" Solo interrupted him.

Duo, however, was smirking at him.

"Six men? Against the Mysian army?" Gregory scoffed.

"Eight," Duo corrected.

Trowa looked over at Heero, who looked close to having an aneurysm.

"Ten," Heero growled. "Alex and I will be going."

"I'd like to go as well," Quatre spoke up.

Trowa frowned.

"This isn't some lark –" he started to argue

"I _know_ that and _you_ know that I'm useful," Quatre snapped.

It was true, the blonde man, while not a proponent of violence, was an excellent warrior and Trowa knew that he advised Solo on military strategy.

Trowa sighed.

"The more we have travelling the slower it will be," he pointed out.

"Yet twelve of us could make a difference, whereas one wouldn't," Solo pointed out.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"If Duo gets to go, I do as well. I'm not letting my little brother just waltz into an enemy attack."

"This is madness," Gregory growled. " _Both_ of my sons cannot attack the Mysian army!"

"Solo should stay," Duo argued. "If I die, you lose one son, but if he dies you lose the one man who knows how to rule this kingdom. It doesn't matter that I'm the youngest, Solo –"

"If anyone should stay it should be _you_ ," Solo interrupted. " _You_ belong _here_. And you'll learn to rule if you'd just remember who you are."

"I'm not staying, and if I have to do this on my own I will, but I _will_ do it," Duo threatened.

"I'm coming too," Hilde suddenly jumped in. "I can fight, and I – it's my brother out there."

Trowa looked at Gregory, and the King looked torn between cursing them all to hell and simply washing his hands of them.

"Very well," he said at last. He glared at Heero. "If either of my sons comes to harm, I will spend the rest of my life desecrating the bones of your ancestors," he warned.

Heero bowed his head. "I _will_ protect them," he assured Gregory.

"We leave in two hours," Trowa said to the room at large. "Meet at the Royal Stables."

* * *

Up Next: Some fighting, some talking, and maybe more!

-0-

Some facts about this fantasy world:

There isn't actually any magic. It's really just kind of a medieval-ish place, with a small pantheon of gods. The gods will be explained more as we go, but they don't really interfere with life – it's a lot like our own contemporary religions.

Thera and Mysia are ancient Greek cities/islands/states and I'm definitely stealing a bit from Greek mythology as I craft this.

As for technology: again, very medieval, except that I gave them running water – because, let's be honest – running water is AWESOME and truly necessary to even think about the Gundam boys being super hot and having lots of sex.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Chapter 10**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken a while for me to update this. Deviant and A Very Dark Corner have been VERY insistent, and I found it hard to resist getting both of those fics on their feet.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Ten

_We are all going to die._

They had been riding for nine hours already, and with every mile they covered, Heero's sense of impending doom was renewed.

There was simply no way that thirteen people could possibly hope to attack a Mysian army of several hundred and have any chance of living, much less making a dent in the Mysian forces.

He could understand Duo's desire to go to the aid of the free workers - and he knew that Trowa would have been unable to resist offering his assistance as well, given his own past.

But now the entire future of the Theran monarchy was riding to their deaths.

If Heero had had his way, neither Solo nor Duo would be on this suicide mission. As much as he would have preferred Duo, at least, to stay behind, he knew the prince well enough to know that his threat of sneaking out and traveling to South Pass on his own had not been an idle one. Solo, at least, should have stayed.

Instead, they were all going to die.

Heero had no qualms about facing his own death - he was a soldier, from a family of soldiers. Only his great-great grandfather had died of old age, and Heero had no expectations of living that long. But that was different than facing the death of the princes - one whom he considered a friend, the other...

Trowa had set a steady pace, no doubt at the limit of what he estimated the horses could travel, and it made conversation impossible between the riders.

As such, Heero had been alone with his thoughts for hours now, and much to his annoyance, those thoughts had focused all too often on Duo.

When Trowa had told him that Duo had kissed him, Heero had felt a genuine, sharp tug of envy. It had taken him completely off guard - yes, he had caught himself admiring Duo's lean body far too often - and he had been forced to admit to himself, and then Trowa, that he was attracted to the man he was charged to protect. It wasn't merely physical, which made it even worse, because he _cared_ about Duo. He had grown to appreciate his sharp sense of humor, and his desire for justice endeared him to Heero.

If he had been faced with only a growing emotional attachment to him, Heero was sure he could have turned his feelings towards friendship, and developed a relationship similar to the one he had with Solo. But it _was_ physical as well.

Heero had only ever been with Trowa, and had considered himself fortunate beyond words to have found a partner who so seamlessly fit into his life and accepted him, not to mention, was breathtakingly handsome and an amazing lover. Unlike Trowa, who had had other lovers, Heero had never even considered being with anyone else - why would he, when he already had someone like Trowa? Duo challenged all of that.

Even now, nearly a month after his return to Thera, Duo was slight, his lean body bordering on frail, but Heero knew from experience that he was strong.

The night of his assassination attempt, when he had stood naked in front of Heero and Trowa, daring either of them to feel pity for him, Duo had transformed in Heero's eyes from his charge into something beautiful and dangerous that Heero _desired_. He had been shocked by just how much he wanted Duo, in that moment. He had been overwhelmed by anger at the sight of the tattoo carved into his pale flesh, and he almost regretted that Duo had already killed the Inquisitor; but the sight of Duo's defiance and strength had sent a jolt of pure lust through him. The lust he had been able to fight, but when Duo confided his supposed cowardice to them, Heero had realized that he was doomed.

Duo was a man that had suffered so much, yet had such an indomitable will. It wasn't that Heero wanted to protect him or shelter him, but he wanted to help him. He wanted to be at his side, and he desperately wanted to touch him.

It was easy enough for Trowa, a king in his own right and a trusted adviser to Sylvia, Solo, and Gregory, to act on his attraction to the Theran prince. They were social equals. But Heero was a commoner, tasked with defending the prince with his very life, and there was simply no way that, even IF Duo were interested, any relationship could exist between the two.

Not that it mattered.

They were all going to die too soon for it to matter.

* * *

Trowa called a halt around dawn, insisting that both the horses and the riders needed to rest before they entered enemy territory.

Duo had looked rebellious at the idea of stopping, but Trowa had pointed out that showing up at the fort only to be in need of a nap wouldn't do anyone any good, and would only get them all killed that much sooner.

So Duo had retreated to the small fire that Ralph started, while Alex and two other Sentinels set up a watch around the camp.

Hilde and the remaining Sentinels started another fire, while Quatre and Solo did likewise.

Heero looked at the others, took in the tense set of Duo's shoulders, and the way that Ralph sat down beside him, close enough that their sides were pressed together.

'Ralph looks cozy," he growled to Trowa, who, with his usual ability to nap anywhere, was already stretched out by their fire, wrapped in his oilskin cloak, his eyes closed.

"Hm?"

"Ralph. And Duo."

That got Trowa's attention, and he sat up to look across the camp.

"We aren't the only ones that find him attractive," Trowa said grimly before lying back down.

"You don't care that your second in command is hitting on him?"

"I care just as much as you seem to, but I'm hardly in a position to do anything, am I? He thinks I hate him. You should go over there and break it up."

Heero rolled his eyes.

"Yes, because that's logical."

"It is - oh right." Trowa sat back up, looking suddenly more alert. "Before Hilde arrived at the palace yesterday, Quatre was in the middle of listing all of my faults when he said that Duo wanted _both_ of us."

Heero frowned.

"He's attracted to both of us?"

"Yes. And I have to agree with Quatre about this - it makes perfect sense for him to be attracted to you. You have threatened to kill him since you met, after all."

Heero glared.

"He is," Trowa repeated.

"Quatre thinks he is. And Quatre loves to play matchmaker."

"Yes, but Quatre also doesn't care much for me. So why bother to tell me this unless Duo told _him_?"

"Why - why?"

"Heero, I've clearly been a terrible lover if you don't understand just how appealing you are. He would have to be blind, deaf, and a complete idiot not to be attracted to you. And don't bother arguing," Trowa continued when Heero opened his mouth to protest, "I know you've never been with anyone else, but I also know you've had offers. You have to know how great you are."

"I'm a soldier. I'm a commoner. I'm -"

"The most honorable man I know, and if you asked Duo, I'm pretty sure he'd say the same thing. Do you really think birth matters to _him_? He's lived as a commoner for fifteen years."

"He's still my prince."

"Why did this never matter between us? Aside from the fact that I don't have a kingdom." There was a bitter edge to Trowa's voice.

"Because _you_ kissed me. YOU invited me to live with the Sentinels after my father's death. _You_ approached me for sex. You made it clear, from the beginning, that you weren't going to let me walk away from you unless I wanted to, that nothing mattered to you _except_ me."

Trowa smiled, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards and his eyes warmed.

"I still feel that way," he said.

"But you want Duo too."

" _We_ want Duo too," Trowa corrected. "Doesn't it feel... right? Thinking about him with us? We're the same, us three - we value the same things, we all _hate_ the bullshit of court politics, we're warriors."

"We're damaged," Heero added, "and yes, so is he, but shouldn't he... be with someone who isn't?"

"You tell me, because we are damaged," Trowa agreed. "Has being with me made it... worse?"

"No. You're the only one who understands, who doesn't judge me."

Trowa looked triumphant. He folded his hands behind his head and laid back down. Heero sighed.

"Fine. I'm not saying he needs someone like Quatre, but -"

"But nothing, Heero. He _wants_ us - or at least he did, until I made an ass of myself. He wants _you_ , at any rate."

"It hardly matters," Heero said as he sat down beside Trowa and settled against the other man's side.

"Because we're all going to die?" Trowa asked, his voice amused.

"Yes."

"That attitude is why you never became a full Sentinel, you know," Trowa mused. He ran one hand idly through Heero's hair. "We don't care for the odds."

"That's because you're guided by the Gods," Heero muttered.

"Right. That's definitely it. You know, Duo said the same thing to me - the night we first met? I'll make you a deal," he said after a pause, "I'll have the Gods keep all of us from dying _if_ , after the free workers are safe, you help me convince Duo that I don't hate him, and that we're just as interested in him as he is in us."

Heero sighed.

"Why not? We'll all be dead, so I'm not risking anything by saying yes."

Trowa kissed him and then settled back to sleep.

"I love it when you're wrong, Heero," he said as he closed his eyes again.

* * *

It was dusk when they reached the South Pass.

The terrain had turned rocky, and while it was still bitterly cold, snow had not yet fallen this far South.

Heero had been to the fort once, years ago, before he had joined the Royal Guard.

It was a precarious stone structure, situated on a rocky plateau that overlooked the actual Pass, built into the rocky face of the Northern Mountains on one side, and overlooking the Hellas river, here at its broadest and supposedly deepest, on another. Below the fort, in the valley of the Pass, a settlement had been started with free workers farming the fertile ground and mining in the Northern Mountains. It was supposed to be one of the safer settlements, and certainly one of the more prosperous ones this far south.

When Trowa brought them to a halt on the northern ridge of the pass, still in the tree line and hidden from sight, Heero could see the devastation the Mysian army had wrought.

The settlement was gone, and in the failing light, Heero could see wisps of smoke from the fields, no doubt burnt and salted by now.

"Why would they do this?" Quatre asked, despair in his voice.

"The Mysian climate is temperate - they can grow food year around, so they don't need more agriculture. They want the mining here, the access to the river and the Pass through the mountains. By salting the earth they force any future settlements - their settlements, made up of slave labor - to be dependent upon the capital for food. It helps to cement their power and it eliminates the risk of their settlements becoming autonomous or rebellious."

Heero wasn't surprised that Duo answered Quatre's question, but he was impressed by how well he summed up the Mysian strategy. The venom in his voice as he described it, however, made it clear how much it angered him to see it, again.

"The fort looks intact," Solo pointed out after a moment of silence, as everyone digested just how clever and diabolical the Mysians were.

"And surrounded," Ralph added.

"Not the river side," Duo pointed out.

"Which helps us how?" Solo asked. "The walls of the fort are solid rock. Even if we could swim it - and it's damned cold, little brother, not to mention dangerous - how would we get in?"

Duo looked a little sheepish.

"The smugglers nook," he finally said in a rush.

"The w _hat_?" Heero demanded, sure that he hadn't heard him correctly.

"The smugglers nook," Duo repeated. "It's built into the wall - nice little storage area and a secret tunnel that leads to the mess."

"No there isn't," Heero argued. He had never heard of such a thing.

"My brother would know if there was, and he's never said -"

"Okay, fine," Duo snapped. "I made it up."

Heero fought against the urge to roll his eyes at Duo's tone. The prince was obviously frustrated and angry.

"How do _you_ know about it?" Trowa asked, his tone even.

"I've used it. The commander of the fort thought he could make a profit selling excess weapons and rations to the rebels and I was the go between."

"My brother is _not_ a smuggler!"

Duo rolled his eyes.

"I'm talking about General Tsubarov. Is he your brother?"

"No, Carl got promoted after Tsubarov's death."

"Then your brother isn't a smuggler," Duo assured her, "and since Tsubarov was a sneaky bastard, I'm willing to be no one knew about the nook besides him and a few of his lackeys. It should still be there."

Trowa turned to Ralph.

"You and Sam stay with the horses. _If_ this works, I'll be back to update you."

Ralph didn't look too happy with the assignment, but he nodded in acceptance.

"We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot in any case," Trowa said to the others as he swung out of his saddle, "Mysians scout are shit, but even they would notice a parade of horses."

It took a few minutes for everyone to gather their equipment, and by that time darkness had fallen. The night sky was dimly illuminated by a fortuitously full moon, and the distant fires of the Mysian camp.

Trowa led the way down the ridge to the river's edge, and Heero fell into step beside Duo.

The prince seemed to be muttering something under his breath, but stopped when Heero came close to him. He arched an eyebrow in question.

"I was praying," he confessed. "To the moon," he added a moment later. "The Mistress of the God of Death - she's supposed to watch over wayward souls and show them the way."

"To death?" Heero questioned, disconcerted.

"Not necessarily. Not if it isn't their time." He sighed. "I'm sure you've been going insane since I insisted on coming here. I...appreciate you not locking me in the dungeons to keep me from doing this."

Heero couldn't help but chuckle.

"The thought _had_ crossed my mind, but I'm pretty confident you would have been able to escape."

"Oh, you know I would." Duo sounded a little more at ease now.

"Tsubarov was murdered, eight months ago," Heero said after a few minutes of walking in silence.

"Really?" Duo asked, sounding not the slightest bit surprised or sad. "Guess the bastard made himself a few enemies."

When they reached the river, Solo swore.

"This is madness! We're going to freeze to death _if_ we can even survive the current!"

"You don't have to come," Duo told him and walked past him down to the shore.

It was bright here, the moon reflecting off the water's surface lending all of them an ethereal glow.

Duo strapped his sword to his back, and Heero found himself following his lead - it would keep the blade marginally drier and make swimming easier.

Without waiting for anyone else, Duo dove into the river.

Solo swore again and started to reposition his own weapons, but Heero and Trowa immediately followed the other man into the water.

The water _was_ cold _,_ and it stung Heero like thousands of sharp needles.

He fought against the current and managed to reach the surface of the river. It took him a moment to orient himself, but he saw Duo a few yards ahead of him, and Trowa off to his side.

It seemed like forever before they reached the wall of the fort, and Duo climbed out of the river onto the rocks. Heero watched as Duo waited for Trowa and helped haul the other man out of the water.

"Here," Duo called out to Heero and reached out to him.

Heero took his hand and Trowa grabbed his other arm, both men working to pull him up to the rocks.

"Thanks," he said, and fought to catch his breath. It really was _freezing_.

"You two want to wait for the others while I -"

"No," Heero and Trowa said simultaneously.

"We'll wait together," Heero added.

Duo shrugged and started to try to wring water out of his clothing.

It was another ten minutes before the others joined them, and by that time Heero, Trowa, and Duo were shivering from the cold.

After helping the others, Duo started to walk across the rocks, moving nimbly across the uneven footing in the dark as though he had the path memorized.

When they came to a particularly large rock, Duo stopped.

"I'm going to need some help with this," he said and looked back at Heero and Trowa.

"Climbing over it?" Heero asked.

"No, moving it. The entrance to the nook is behind it."

The three men were able to move the rock, though it took considerable effort, and sure enough, there was a dark passageway behind it.

"I'll be damned," Solo muttered. "If Tsubarov wasn't already dead I'd kill the bastard myself."

"Be careful and watch your heads," Duo cautioned them. "It's not the smoothest walk. But... unless I'm wrong... hah!"

A moment later a golden flicker of light illuminated Duo's face and the tunnel.

"I _thought_ I left this here," Duo said. The flicker of light suddenly grew to a dull blaze as Duo lit a torch. "That should make things easier." He started towards the tunnel.

"I'll go first," Heero said, and took the torch from him before the prince could protest, and started down the tunnel.

He sincerely hoped that Carl wasn't anticipating a Mysian attack from within the fort, or there was every chance they would all die at the hands of their own countrymen.

* * *

When they emerged in the mess all movement stopped.

Instead of being filled with soldiers, the mess had been converted into a makeshift hospital, and free workers and soldiers alike froze to stare at the intruders.

Several reached for weapons.

"Therans!" Heero shouted. "We're here to help."

The soldiers looked uneasy, but Solo pushed his way to stand beside Heero.

Not everyone recognized him, especially with his golden hair plastered to his scalp and his sodden clothing making him look more like a vagrant than a prince, but enough people did, and a murmur of awe rose from the crowd.

Solo turned to the nearest soldier.

"Take us to Captain Schiebaker," he commanded.

The soldier looked hesitant, but another, older man nudged him, and he stumbled into a bow.

"Of course, sir, I mean – your Majesty. Your Highness. My Prince."

Heero could tell that Solo was amused at having flustered the young soldier, but he was grateful that Solo merely inclined his head and gestured for the soldier to lead them.

As they walked through the fort, Heero took in the huddled free workers and the soldiers, all grim faced in the golden torch and firelight.

They looked tired, but not defeated, and there was enough activity that Heero thought that the garrison – one hundred strong at its best – had to be in decent shape.

The soldier led them to the armory, where Carl appeared to be inspected their weapons.

"Captain," Solo greeted his childhood friend.

Carl stopped and dropped the sword he had been inspected and stared, open mouthed, at Solo.

Before he could formulate a response, Hilde rushed forward and leapt into his arms.

"Carl!" She cried against his neck.

It took a moment for him to hug her back, and he continued to stare wide eyed at Solo.

"My Prince," he finally managed after setting Hilde on her feet and kissing her forehead. "What – _how_ – _you_." His voice changed from unsure to vehement on the last word, and he reached for the sword at his side, drawing it and advancing towards them.

Heero instinctively put himself between Solo and Carl, even though it seemed illogical for the captain to have decided to attack the prince.

But Carl continued to advance, until his sword was pressed against Duo's neck.

" _You_ filthy, lying, bastard. I _told_ you never to show your face here again. I _trusted_ you and –"

"Stand down, Captain," Heero ordered, leaving Solo's side and moving between Carl and Duo, bumping the prince backwards and out of Carl's reach.

"Why are you protecting this rebel scum?" Carl demanded.

"Because he's my brother," Solo offered with a smirk, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Carl looked back at Solo, and then back at Duo again.

"By the Gods. _No_."

It reminded Heero very much of the reactions he and Trowa had experienced at the news. Granted, neither of them had been in the process of threatening to kill Duo.

"Sheathe your sword, Captain," Heero said, putting an edge into his voice.

In a daze, Carl complied.

"Clearly you two have met," Solo said, still amused.

"Bast – shit. The _Prince_ visited the garrison about eight months ago, yes." Carl's words were an angry growl.

Heero looked over his shoulder at Duo.

"Captain Blind Faith here was kind enough to give me a tour of the dungeons," Duo said.

"So he caught you smuggling weapons from Tsubarov?" Quatre suggested.

Duo winced as Carl gave an angry exclamation.

"That's why you knew it wasn't the butcher's boy!" Carl said.

"And I _told_ you it wasn't him, didn't I? I _told_ you that you needed to open your damn eyes."

"So you murdered him in cold blood because of what he did to that boy?"

"No. I gave that boy – and those _girls_ – the justice that no one else would. Or will you deny knowing about what he did?"

Carl turned pale and his jaw muscles clenched.

"This is fascinating, really," Trowa spoke up, "but perhaps we can relive the old days later… when there isn't an enemy army camped a hundred feet away, contemplating our very immediate deaths?"

Carl reluctantly stopped glaring at Duo and turned to the Sentinel.

"How _did_ you manage to get in here?" He asked.

"Duo," Trowa said. "He led us through a tunnel from the river."

Carl closed his eyes and shook his head.

"That bastard. I _knew_ he –"

Trowa cleared his throat.

"Some other time. Right." Carl sighed and turned to Solo. "I'm not sure why you came. I sent Gus to give you word that the fort would fall. I didn't anticipate reinforcement or… _you_ , My Prince. Or that one," he added lamely, with a gesture in Duo's direction.

"Well, you got both of us. I'm afraid this is it, in terms of reinforcement. What's the situation?"

The question transformed Carl back into the veteran soldier that he was, and he proceeded to give a succinct report of the last four days.

"The Mysian army is some three hundred strong – less, now. I'd estimate fifty casualties on their part by now."

"How many free workers have died?" Duo asked, earning a strange look from Carl.

"Thirty, in the initial attack. Since we managed to get everyone into the fort we've lost another five, from injuries sustained earlier."

"Soldiers?" Solo asked.

"We've lost fifteen. The men put up a good fight, in the initial confrontation. But the Mysian's have built siege towers. We managed to repulse their first attacks, but it's only a matter of time, now. There are simply too many of them. Even with… you eleven, there's nothing we can do. I'm afraid you arrived in time to die with us, My Prince – s," he added awkwardly.

"Can't we try to evacuate the free workers?" Duo pressed.

"How?" Carl sneered, "hold up a white flag and ask the Mysians to let them pass? YOU should know how well that would be received, if any of the stories about you were ever true."

"Or the less stupid way and take them across the river. Same way we got in."

"Swimming against the current across a freezing river is the less stupid way?" Carl echoed. "These people are injured, sick, weak – damn it. You all need dry clothes." He sighed. "Thomas!"

The soldier who had led them to Carl stepped up.

"Sir?"

"Take them to the barracks. Surely there's something they can wear." He turned back to Solo. "I need to inspect the ramparts. After you're dry and have had something to eat, we will speak again."

He moved past them, stopping to glare at Duo as he did.

"You certainly know how to make impressions," Solo said to his brother.

Duo frowned but remained silent.

Heero wanted to know what, exactly, had happened eight months ago. Clearly it had something to do with Tsubarov's death, and Carl, who was normally calm and slow to anger, had been ready to kill Duo over it.

Thomas led them to the barracks and started to rifle through the trunks, barking orders at the few soldiers sleeping in their beds to get up and be useful.

In a matter of minutes he had found clean, warm trousers and shirts for all of them, even though he looked a bit sheepish as he offered Hilde the clothing.

She accepted it with a roll of her eyes and started to strip, which shocked Thomas into turning away from her even as she laughed at him.

Heero and the others followed her example, and he was in dry clothes before he noticed Duo standing to one side, still in his wet clothes, looking miserable.

"What –" Heero caught himself and shook his head. "You have nothing to be ashamed of," he assured Duo in an undertone.

The prince's eyes focused on him.

"How can you say that? You've _seen_ me _!"_ He hissed.

The others started to file past them, heading out towards the mess, but Trowa also lingered, until it was just the three of them, and the soldiers settling back down in their beds.

"We're alone now," Trowa said, clearly picking up on the issue at hand. "And you have to get out of those clothes."

Duo looked past them at the soldiers, but seemed content that no one was looking in his direction, and started to strip.

Heero turned away, thinking that Duo deserved some courtesy, but Trowa's hand dug into his arm and he turned to glare at him.

Trowa held his gaze for a moment, and Heero sighed before glancing back at Duo.

The prince had stripped off his wet pants and was in the process of pulling on the dry pair, having elected to save his shirt until last.

He caught both of them looking at him and glared.

"I'm going to change, you don't have to babysit me," he growled.

"Maybe we just like looking at you," Trowa suggested mildly.

Duo snarled and pulled off his shirt.

"Yeah, I'll just bet."

He reached for the dry shirt, but Trowa took it from him.

"What?" Duo demanded, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. "Or is this another pity thing of yours?"

"I didn't kiss you out of pity," Trowa growled.

Duo's eyes darted over to Heero uneasily.

"I wouldn't have kissed you out of pity either," Heero said.

Duo frowned.

"Maybe to stop you from ranting," Heero mused.

"Hm," Trowa agreed with a nod, "that would be a useful tactic."

Duo looked between them, mouth open, and then shook his head. He snatched his shirt out of Trowa's hands and pulled it on.

"Are you done laughing at me?" He demanded.

Trowa sighed.

"We aren't laughing at you."

"Right. You just find me _so_ interesting that you want to watch me change and tease me about kissing - out of a desire to _not_ laugh at me."

"You are interesting," Heero agreed.

"I'm only teasing you about kissing so that I'll have an excuse to do it again," Trowa confided.

Duo gave him a sharp look.

"And Heero's just tagging along because he likes to watch?"

Trowa looked to Heero.

It certainly wasn't _after_ the battle with the army, but, in the long run, perhaps he might as well say something now. They were, after all, all going to die.

Except Duo looked insecure and actually _hurt_ , as though he really did think that this was some game they were playing with him.

Trowa arched an eyebrow, and Heero mentally threw caution to the wind.

He closed the distance between them and kissed Duo, completely shocking the other man.

He could feel his entire body tense up, but Heero moved his mouth over Duo's, gently trying to coax a response out of him.

It took a moment, but Duo relaxed into the kiss, and his body seemed to melt towards Heero's as he started to respond, his own mouth opening and allowing Heero to taste him. Their tongues tangled together and drove Heero to pull Duo against him, wrapping his arms around the other man and savoring the feel and heat of him.

Eventually, Heero eased away.

Duo looked at him as though he had never seen him before, and Trowa, standing to one side, had a look on his face that usually meant he wanted to jump into bed with Heero. It made him smirk, and Duo followed his attention.

"What?" Duo asked hesitantly, taking in the heat in Trowa's eyes.

"Apparently I'm not the one who enjoys watching," Heero said, amused and aroused.

"I'd rather do less watching and more participating," Trowa muttered.

Duo flushed.

"I really don't understand what's going on here. _You_ don't even like me," he said to Trowa, then turned to Heero. "And you barely do."

"You're wrong," Heero assured him. "We like you. Too much, actually. It's damned distracting."

"Speaking of distractions," Trowa spoke up before Duo could respond, "we should probably find the others. This isn't the best time to be having this conversation."

" _You_ started it," Duo pointed out, sounding more than a little cranky.

"And I intend to continue it," Trowa said with a smirk, "just as soon as –"

"Attack! Attack! They're attacking!"

The sudden shouting roused the sleeping soldiers and the three men joined them as they rushed out of the barracks.

The night sky was alight with fire, and people filled in the courtyard in a flurry of activity.

"We need to find Solo," Heero told them.

"Look up," Duo growled and pointed.

Sure enough, Solo was easily identifiable on the ramparts above them, standing beside Carl, his sword aloft, as though calling everyone to battle.

"We're all going to die," Heero finally said aloud, just as all hell broke loose.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Chapter 11**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this! I appreciate your patience with me for not updating this as frequently as some of my other work.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Eleven

Duo had been involved in battles before. He had faced down the Mysian army before, and he had fought shoulder to shoulder with comrades just as committed to destroying the Mysians as he was.

But Duo had never been _part_ of an army before. He had never had orders to follow, had never had anyone look to _him_ for guidance.

Either Solo hadn't thought of that or simply didn't care, because he promptly ordered Duo to the battlements and put him in charge of keeping the western wall clear of Mysian siege engines.

Solo gave Carl the north wall and seemed intent on stalking between the two, cursing the Mysians and shouting encouragement to the Theran soldiers.

Duo hadn't even realized that Trowa and Heero were with him on the battlement until they stepped up to his side.

"Any thoughts?" Trowa asked, and Duo couldn't decide if he was addressing him or Heero.

Stretched out beyond them was the Mysian army, a ghoulish array of shadows illuminated by firelight as they thundered towards the fort walls.

"I count twelve siege towers," Heero mused. "The ground is uphill, so we've got that to our advantage…"

"Pretty rocky too," Trowa muttered.

Duo found himself nodding in agreement.

"Smoother here than the north wall, though," he added.

"How lucky for us," Heero said, and Duo couldn't tell if he was joking or not. He knew that Heero desperately wished that Duo was hiding under a mattress somewhere… but the man was a warrior. There was a spark of excitement in his eyes that Duo knew was mirrored in his own and Trowa's.

"Your archers…" Duo started and then shook his head. "You aren't at war with Mysia. Nevermind."

Trowa sighed.

"We _are_ Thera's ally," he pointed out.

"Sylvia –" Heero started.

"Trusts me," Trowa said. "She sent Ralph and the others to ask for support for _our_ settlements. No, this is sooner than she would like, but we were headed down this path come spring anyway." He sighed and turned around.

"Sentinels to me!" He called loudly and clearly.

A moment later the remaining four Sentinels joined them.

"For now," Duo instructed, "focus your fire on the closest towers, but when they start to get _too_ close, change your targets to the next line and leave the first ones for the soldiers to hack at when they're close enough."

"Weather's perfect. Cold and dry…if we had some fire and some fuel…" Trowa mused.

Duo frowned at him.

"We could dip our arrows – shooting –"

"Do it," Duo said, following the explanation to its logical conclusion. He turned to the nearest soldier. "Run to the kitchen, grab all the lard you can."

He turned back to the Sentinels.

"Spread out on this wall and the North wall – we're the easier target but we need to fend them off from all sides."

The Sentinels looked at him and then Trowa, who gave them a brief nod before they moved to obey.

Trowa turned to Duo with a smirk.

"Those are _my_ men," he said lightly, clearly more amused than irritated.

Duo felt himself flush.

"Sorry. I –"

Trowa waved off the apology.

"Where do you want me?"

Duo scanned the battlements and then looked over the layout of the approaching siege towers.

"Closer to the corner – that's the smoothest and least steep path. They'll push it the hardest."

Trowa nodded and moved off to his post.

Heero sighed and Duo turned to look at him.

"What?"

"There'll be no stopping you now," the guard muttered.

"I don't understand."

"You aren't just some rebel out to ruin the Mysians day anymore – you're a Prince of Thera and you just gave orders to people like you'd been doing it your entire life. And they _listened_."

"Some of them," Duo corrected, feeling a little silly for trying to give orders to the Sentinels.

Heero smirked, clearly amused by that as well.

A moment later a line of soldiers bearing lard filled bowls walked up. Duo directed them to the Sentinels arrayed along the battlements.

"How many arrows do they have?" Duo asked Heero.

The other man shrugged.

"Thirty to forty each. And these men are all among the best marksmen in Kos. Trowa, in particular. We can count on most of those arrows hitting their targets."

"So upwards of a hundred then… not all at the men, some at the engines… that should still put a dent in their forces," Duo mused.

He watched as Trowa drew back his arm and let loose a single, fiery arrow.

A moment later it landed, several hundred yards in front of the closest siege engine.

"That's their range," Heero explained for Duo. "They'll hold their fire until the towers pass that arrow."

Duo nodded.

"In the meantime?"

"We wait."

Duo drew in a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. He felt Heero's hand squeeze his shoulder.

"This is your fight, my Prince. You WILL succeed."

Duo allowed the words to fill him with confidence and the sound of Heero's voice calling him 'my Prince' flooded him with heat and the memory of Heero's lips on his.

The actions of Heero and Trowa confused the hell out of Duo. He wanted to think that it was just a game – maybe they were bored and had decided he was an easy target and found toying with him amusing.

But the two men were the most honorable and _sincere_ people he had ever met. They were prone to making scathing, sarcastic remarks but playing some elaborate joke like this – it went against everything they seemed to be.

Which left Duo facing the fact that they _did_ like him. Which scared him far more than the Mysian army marching towards him.

After a few moments of tense silence, the first of the Mysian troops passed Trowa's arrow.

"Fire!" The Sentinel ordered his men, and flaming arrows started to rain down on the advancing soldiers.

Duo watched, impressed and more than a little awed, at the deadly accuracy of the five men.

"You might want to prepare the men," Heero said, loud enough that only Duo could hear him. "The first of those engines will be on us in a few moments. They need to aim for hands and faces – anything exposed, anything vital."

Duo did as Heero suggested, more than a little surprised that the soldiers listened to him. They looked anxious, but his words seemed to instill a sense of determination in them.

"I'm never going to get a decent night's sleep again," Heero muttered, but when Duo turned to look at him he looked far from irritated. If anything, he looked proud. He caught Duo staring at him and smirked. "For a number of reasons," he added, heat in his eyes.

Duo swallowed hard and turned back to the fight, shoving all thoughts of Heero and Trowa's perfect bodies from his mind.

* * *

It was four hours later when the Mysian army retreated to their camp in the village.

The Theran soldiers around Duo looked ready to drop dead from exhaustion. He was amazed that they had fought as well and as long as they had.

He was also more than a little sickened and depressed by the number of Therans who had died.

They had lost twenty-eight men, and another fourteen were injured. Despite that, they _had_ managed to significantly damage the Mysian forces.

Between the initial casualties from the Sentinels and then waves of Mysians who had tried to cross over from their towers to the battlements there were nearly ninety dead Mysians on the field.

Which still left the Therans outnumbered two to one.

Solo gathered Carl, Duo, Trowa, Heero, Quatre, Hilde, and Alex in the Captain's quarters to discuss strategy.

The others looked just as exhausted as Duo felt, but they also looked just as committed to finishing this fight.

"Having your Sentinels saved us," Carl said as soon as they more or less collapsed into chairs around the large table in his room. One of the free workers bustled among them, depositing food and tea.

Trowa looked at Duo.

"You can thank your Prince for that strategy," he said mildly, earning a scowl from Carl.

Duo smiled tiredly.

He actually respected the Captain. The events of eight months ago had made it clear that Carl was a man of honor, and the events of last night provided ample evidence of his bravery and dedication.

"It won't work again," Trowa continued. "We used all of our arrows – and unless you Therans have decided to stockpile weapons you don't use –" Carl shook his head in the negative –"then we don't have anything left to shoot."

"Which means we won't last another night – or day," Carl observed and sighed. "We can put up a hell of a fight, but… they'll win. With our losses and without your men to keep them leery, those towers will overwhelm us."

"Then what are we going to do about the free workers?" Duo asked.

Carl frowned, but Solo spoke up before the soldier could.

"Duo, I know that you want to save them, but –"

"But we c _an_!" Duo interrupted, angry that no one seemed to care that innocent people would die. "It's not perfect, and it sure as hell won't be easy, but we've _got_ to try this."

"The water is _freezing_ and the current impossible," Carl growled.

"We can tie a guide line," Heero mused. "From one shore to the other – it will help the crossing. As for the cold… I think the free workers would rather risk it than Mysian mercy."

"What about the bridge?" Hilde asked, referring to the actual crossing over the Hellas river. The bridge was closer to the free worker settlement, nearly half a mile downstream of the fort.

"It's guarded by Mysians," Hilde added when everyone looked at her in confusion. "As soon as they realize you're evacuating people across the river they'll split their army and come after us."

"We could destroy it," Quatre offered.

" _How_?" Carl growled. "Pray to the Gods?"

"The bridge has stone pylons," Duo pointed out, "but the structure is wooden. We could burn it."

" _Still_ guarded by the Mysians," Carl argued.

"Not many, I'm sure," Quatre added. "Not when they aren't expecting us to be doing anything but trying not to die."

Solo shook his head.

"There's still the matter of _getting to_ it. And how to destroy it."

Duo looked at Carl, trying to gauge his attitude. The Captain seemed to be near the end of his energy and patience, and Duo had no doubt that if given the chance, he would love an excuse to take out his anger on Duo.

He sighed.

"If I recall, Tsubarov had stores of saltpeter around here somewhere…"

Sure enough, Carl's face went white and his eyes narrowed.

" _You_ –"

"I wasn't the bastard running a smuggling operation out of this fort!" Duo jumped in before Carl could get going.

"Yet you were his source of income!"

"Not his primary source! He sold weapons to damn near anyone who had the gold to pay for them!"

"And where did YOU get the gold?" Carl demanded. He slammed his hand on the table. "Don't pretend that you weren't complicit in his activities! If scum like you didn't exist then he –"

"Probably would have started selling things to the damn Mysians! Tsubarov was a smuggler, a tyrant, and a pervert. Or are you going to blame _me_ for his habit of raping –"

"You made sure he paid for it without ever giving those victims the chance to see real justice!"

"Justice? I've seen the way this army works! As soon as the allegations were made you _know_ Tsubarov was packing his damn bags and preparing to request a transfer back to Antioch. You _know_ it!"

They stood glaring at each other, and Duo was surprised by how much energy he had to be angry about this.

" _You_ let that boy die," Duo hissed. " _You_ were the one who followed his orders and threw me in the dungeons instead of letting me do the right thing. You _know_ you were wrong. And I'll go to my grave regretting his death, and I know you will too because you aren't Tsubarov. Neither of us is."

"I think we could do with some rest," Solo said into the deafening silence after Duo's words.

It took a moment for Carl to look away from Duo.

"Of course," Carl agreed, looking at Solo. "I'll see to it that everyone is found bedding. My quarters are, of course, at your disposal." He winced and then looked at Duo. "My prince."

Without another word he stalked from the room, Hilde jumping up to follow him.

"I doubt the Mysians will attack again in the next few hours," Solo said to the rest of them, as if Duo and Carl's shouting match had never occurred. "Try to sleep. It's going to be a long day and night."

Duo stood up, ready to go and scrounge up something soft to lay his head on.

"Where are you going?" Solo asked him.

"To find a place to sleep?" Duo said, confused.

Solo pointed at the bed curtained off from the rest of the room.

"There's your bed."

Duo frowned.

"No, _you_ sleep there."

"No, _you_ are the heir. You rank higher than I do."

"And yet you're giving me orders," Duo muttered, earning a smirk from Solo.

His brother squeezed his shoulder.

"You did well, little brother. You've the real makings of a king."

With that, Solo, Quatre, and Alex filed from the room. Heero and Trowa started to follow.

Duo waited, anxious for them to leave so he could sneak out of the fort and destroy the bridge. He figured that if he could remove as many obstacles as possible to Carl and Solo's arguments then they would be able to work out a plan to save all of the innocent people hiding in the fort.

Heero and Trowa paused at the door and exchanged a look before turning back to Duo.

Heero sighed.

"What are you planning?" he demanded.

Duo couldn't keep the surprise off his face.

"Huh?"

"That look on your face – you're planning something," Trowa clarified Heero's question. "What?"

Duo debated his chances of getting out of the door before either man could stop him and realized that they were slim to none. And there was no way they would let him to what he was thinking of.

"Uh… nothing, really. Just… tired. Thinking about getting some shut eye."

Trowa smirked.

"Mind if we join you then?"

Duo scowled. There were only a few hours left before dawn, and if he wanted to get this done he would have to move quickly. He didn't have time to stand here and argue with these two.

"Yeah, I do. Now would you please –"

"You're a terrible liar," Heero interrupted him. "What are you planning?"

Duo rolled his eyes and looked between the two of them. Both men met his gaze, and it irritated him just how self-confident they were.

"Fine. I'm going to destroy the bridge. If I can do that now, before dawn, then –"

Trowa sighed loudly and held up a hand in Heero's direction.

"Don't say it. We're all going to die. I know."

Heero glared at him and then turned back to Duo.

"Where do you think Tsubarov kept the saltpeter?"

Duo frowned.

"I don't… you're not going to fight with me about this?"

"Would you rather we did?" Trowa asked in amusement.

"No." Duo looked between them, trying to figure out how this could be some plan of theirs to trick him into trusting them before they tied him to a chair or something.

"The bridge?" Trowa reminded him after a moment.

"Right. The saltpeter – if we can just get a few charges to the bridge then we can blow the damn thing up. Tsubarov was crazy about using saltpeter. They keep a stockpile here for mining – but he'd planned on using it for military purposes. Crazy bastard – most foul human being I've ever met – but he was also a genius."

"It's dangerous to keep something like that inside the fort," Heero mused.

"Sure, but Tsubarov was also trying to sell some of it off – he'd need it close by."

"The armory?" Trowa hazarded.

Duo shook his head.

"Too many people have access to that. No, he'd keep it somewhere that – bastard," Duo muttered as he realized where Tsubarov would have kept it.

He led the way out of the room and towards the dungeons, Heero and Trowa close behind him.

Sure enough, at the back of the cells, stacked behind a few crates, were three barrels of saltpeter.

"How are we going to get it to the bridge?" Heero asked.

"Float it?" Duo suggested with a shrug. "If we can get it down there, kill however many Mysians are guarding the bridge, and the light this thing we should be in good shape."

"Good shape?" Trowa echoed. "We'd still have to swim upstream to get back to the fort – all of this in the freezing water – and we have no idea how many guards there are."

"You're right. We should just let the Mysians slaughter everyone instead."

Heero rolled his eyes.

"Fine. We'll do this." Heero hefted one of the smallest barrels.

Strangely they were ignored as they made their way back through the main compound of the fort, down to the mess, and then into the secret tunnel. There was enough activity tending to the injured soldiers and it was late enough in the night that those not occupied were asleep.

When they made their way through the tunnel to the other side, Duo couldn't help but shudder at the thought of getting back into the river. He drew a deep breath and jumped in.

He looked over his shoulder and saw both Heero and Trowa jump into the river as well.

"We're not doing this again," Trowa told Duo as he swam past. "I don't care how many times you beg – as soon as we leave this damn fort we are never going swimming in a river in the middle of winter again."

Duo couldn't help but chuckle at that.

Trying to stay near the shore, the three of them allowed the current to carry them downstream to the bridge.

The guards stationed by the bridge had gathered around a fire several yards away from the bridge, and in the dim glow Duo could make out half a dozen of them.

"I'll try to draw their attention while you two set this up," Duo said.

Heero snorted.

"Try again."

Duo scowled, though it was doubtful Heero could see his expression in the dim light.

"What do you mean?"

" _I'll_ distract them and Trowa will help me take them out, then we'll set the charge."

Duo knew it was useless to argue with Heero over this. In the long run, it didn't even matter – they were here, they were going to destroy the bridge.

"Sure. Fine. I'll just stay here and be useless," Duo muttered.

"We could use the extra blade," Trowa pointed out.

"We're not endangering his life for no reason," Heero argued.

"Yeah, let's stop talking about him like he's not here, too," Duo suggested and then, without waiting for either to respond, climbed out of the water onto the rocks near the bridge.

Heero and Trowa scrambled after him, Heero storing the barrel near the side of the bridge before rushing ahead of Duo.

"We need to do this as quickly and quietly as possible," Trowa muttered to the two men, "if they manage to alert the rest of the army things will go very badly."

Heero nodded in agreement, drew his sword, and then rushed towards the guards. Trowa followed him a moment later, charging the other side, and Duo decided that, even though Heero hadn't agreed with him, Trowa was right – they needed his help in this.

By the time he reached the group, Heero had taken down one guard and Trowa two, but the other three had caught on to the fact that they were under attack and were fighting back.

Duo managed to catch one by surprise, taking him from behind as he turned towards Heero and Trowa.

Trowa was battling another guard, clearly the only one with any skill with a sword.

The sixth guard focused his attention on Duo, swinging his sword wildly and forcing Duo to back up to avoid being struck by it. Heero immediately charged at the man's back, taking advantage of his attention on Duo to strike from behind and kill him in a single blow.

"Thanks," Duo told him.

Heero smirked slightly.

"It _is_ my job."

Duo found himself grinning back, but then a shadow loomed over Heero's shoulder. Duo reacted without thought, leaping forward and shoving Heero out of the shadow's path just in time to feel the sharp sting of metal biting into his chest.

He forced himself to ignore the pain and stabbed the man in the neck.

"Where the hell did he come from?" Heero demanded, addressing Trowa as the Sentinel walked over to them, breathing heavily as he sheathed his sword.

"The bridge. I didn't see him before."

They both turned to look at Duo.

"Are you alright?" Heero asked him.

Duo resisted the urge to feel his chest.

"Yeah." The cut didn't feel very deep – it had been a long, diagonal slash from his left shoulder to his right side – and in any case, there were more important things to deal with at the moment. "Let's get this finished so we can go for another swim. It's too hot out here."

"Never again," Trowa muttered.

"I promise," Duo assured him with a smirk.

"I might have been wrong about all of us dying after all," Heero added to their banter a few moments later after they had liberally coated the bridge with the saltpeter.

"It happens on occasion," Trowa pointed out. He used the Mysian's campfire to light a torch and then passed it to Duo.

"Want to do the honors?"

Duo took the torch from him and then hurled in through the air. It landed on the bridge and a moment later the entire structure exploded into smoke and flames.

"We should get back before the Mysians get here," Heero said after they admired the destruction for a moment.

Reluctantly, the three men waded back into the river, keeping close to the shore and using the rocks to help pull themselves upstream against the current.

The icy water pushed against Duo, seeming to fight his every movement, and the wound across his chest seemed to draw the cold even further into his body, until each breath Duo drew became a struggle. And then it became impossible to move anymore, or to even breathe. Everything went dark, and Duo fell into a void of icy blackness.

* * *

Duo woke up surrounded by heat.

It felt like he was under seven layers of blankets, and he could feel the hot, naked press of a body against his back and another against his front. It felt like heaven, and Duo instantly distrusted the sensation for that very reason.

He started to move, trying to free himself, but an arm came around his waist from behind and held him in place.

"Relax, you're safe," Trowa's rich baritone voice soothed.

"The – what happened?" Duo hated that he had to ask.

Trowa pulled him tighter against his body, and rested his chin on the curve of Duo's neck. It felt incredibly intimate, that point of contact, and Duo shivered.

"Well," Trowa begun, "you decided to be a lazy asshole and passed out in the middle of swimming back to the fort, so Heero and I had to tow you along. When we got back here our absence had been noted… and the sight of me carrying your bloody body through the mess hall definitely put a few people off their breakfast. You do realize that it's Heero's job to protect you and not the other way around, right?"

"So I'm just supposed to let him get stabbed in the back when I can do something about it?"

"Almost dying yourself isn't what I would call 'doing something about it,'" Trowa said mildly.

"I did _not_ almost die. It was barely a scratch and –"

"We need to work on your definition of scratch," Trowa muttered, "but you're right. It wasn't that bad – except that you were nearly hypothermic already and getting back in the river, with your blood loss, was probably not the best thing to do."

Duo stared at the broad back in front of him, assuming it to be Heero, and assuming that the other man was either asleep or had decided not to talk to him again.

"It worked, though, didn't it?"

"Yes, and the free workers are gathering their things and preparing to cross as soon as it's dusk."

"And Heero's okay, so it was worth it," Duo said, hoping to put an end to the lecture on personal safety.

He could feel Trowa smile against his neck and then the press of the other man's lips against his shoulder, the sensation scorching him.

"Your eagle was beheaded," Trowa murmured against Duo's shoulder.

"What?"

Trowa's hand moved across Duo's chest, making him aware of the bandage wrapped around it, and came to rest over his heart.

"Your wound makes it look like his neck was severed."

Duo snorted a laugh.

"Good." He looked over the back in front of him again. It felt amazing to be this close to Trowa, secure in his warm embrace, but he wished that Heero was closer, pressed against their bodies and part of this.

"Heero's pretty pissed at me, then?" Duo asked in a near whisper.

"Not really. But when Solo's finally done yelling at him for endangering your life and trying to destroy the Theran monarchy he might feel differently."

"That's not Heero," Duo concluded.

"No," Trowa agreed in amusement. "That's Carl."

Duo couldn't help but immediately tense up at the realization and moved away from Carl's back, even closer to Trowa.

"He's not about to kill you after he spent so much time trying to keep you alive," Trowa chuckled.

Duo started to piece things together. Trowa had referenced his scar and –

"Who saw me? Who saw it?" He asked, feeling a lump of terror build in his throat.

"Hilde and Carl," Trowa said, "Heero bravely sacrificed himself to Solo's wrath and got him and Quatre out of here before we got you undressed."

Duo didn't know which would have been worse – having to face the disgust in Solo's eyes or seeing that look from a man who already thought he was worthless scum and deserved to die.

With a sigh, Carl rolled over onto his back and turned his head to look at Duo.

Yet there was no disgust in his dark gaze. If anything, Carl was looking at Duo with respect.

Duo frowned in confusion.

"And we'll gladly go to our graves without ever telling a soul about it," Carl assured him, "but you've no cause to be ashamed of it. Of anything," he added with a thread of anger.

"I'm dreaming all of this, aren't I?" Duo asked Trowa.

"If you are then I'm a bit disappointed," Trowa said, "when _I_ dream of naked men we're never doing anything as mundane as _talking_."

Duo felt his face flush as his dreams of Trowa and Heero came to mind.

"Why are you even here?" He asked Carl.

The soldier frowned.

"Trowa already said – you were nearly hypothermic. After we got your wound bandaged we needed to get you warm. Hilde and I tried to get your body temperature up."

"Hilde?" Duo repeated and tried to look around for her, wondering where in the bed _she_ was hiding.

"We switched as soon as I wasn't an icicle anymore," Trowa told him.

Duo nodded in appreciation of that. He would have been mortified to wake up between Hilde and Carl.

"I owe you an apology," Carl said after a long, tense moment of silence. "I was narrow minded and I should have respected you."

Duo sighed.

"You didn't know who I was, so there's no need to apologize about it. This whole Prince thing is new to me, too, sort of and –"

"No, that's not what I'm talking about." Carl rolled over so that he was facing Duo. "I'm talking about eight months ago. I listened to Tsubarov even when I knew he was lying and I didn't listen to you, even though I knew you were speaking the truth. It is my fault that that boy died and I will go to my grave regretting that. I should have judged your actions, and not your appearance, and I should have realized that you were an honorable man." Carl paused and swallowed hard. "All the same, if I had listened to you and let you take that boy's punishment then you'd be dead now, Tsubarov would still be alive, and all of these people would be doomed to terrible deaths. So… I'm sorry, but I'm also not."

Duo was saved from commenting by the door opening. Solo, Quatre, and a very somber Heero walked in.

Solo's face was twisted into a grimace, which eased slightly when his blue gaze met Duo's.

"You're alive."

"I seem to be," Duo agreed with a slight smirk. He looked past Solo to Heero, but the soldier's face was very carefully blank.

Solo nodded.

"Captain, your men –"

"Of course, My Prince." Carl rolled out of the bed and started to dress.

Solo's eyes became fixed on the spot where Trowa's hand rested over Duo's heart.

"I'm sure my brother is warm enough, now, if you have other things to be doing?" Solo suggested, his eyes narrowing into an icy glare.

Duo felt Trowa tense behind him.

"Actually, I'm not," Duo said and settled back against him, pulling the blankets up to his chin so that Solo would stop glaring at Trowa's hand.

Carl, now dressed, looked between everyone, clearly reading the tension in the air.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he just sighed and left the room.

Solo's jaw clenched tightly but then he shook his head.

"Very well." Solo sat down on a stool in front of the fireplace. "As soon as we return to Antioch, Trowa, you will leave the palace and return to Kos. You may assure Sylvia that our kingdoms will always be friends and allies, but you, son of Ios, are no longer welcome." Solo turned slightly, not quite facing Heero, but clearly addressing him now, "and Heero will be transferred back to the army. It is clear that he is unfit to guard this family."

"What? No!" Duo sat up in the bed and glared at his brother. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

"And once again you almost died!" Solo shouted back at him. "You are the future King of Thera and these two are encouraging you to –"

"Encouraging me? They argue with me at every turn! And –"

"You almost died for _him_ , when it's his job to die for you!"

"I'll die for whoever I want and his job isn't to _die_ for me it's too protect me – which is what he was doing!"

"If he was protecting you then you never would have left Antioch to come on this mad journey and you _never_ should have been at that damned bridge and –"

"And it's my damn life! If you want me to be your king then this is what you get! I'm not going to sit back on my ass while other men, good men, die for me!"

"You have to! It's their job to die for you!"

"No, it isn't. Their job is to fight to keep Thera free, but there's no point in them laying down their lives for someone who's too much of a coward to be willing to do the same."

Solo's eyes narrowed even further.

"A coward? You think I'm a -"

"Not _you_. Me. I'm the coward."

Quatre snorted.

"If you're a coward then who the hell needs heroes?"

"Staying alive doesn't make you a coward. Your job is to lead this country, and you sure as hell can't do that from the grave." Solo looked between the three of them. "I don't know what the hell has been going on between the three of you, but it will end. Now."

"You can't do this, Solo," Duo said.

"You aren't the king yet, little brother, and until you are it's my duty to protect you. I will not put your life in jeopardy by allowing these two any influence over you any longer."

"They're the only ones I trust, Solo. The only ones who know me. Send them away and I will have no one."

"You don't _need_ them," Solo growled.

"No, but I want them," Duo argued, making the decision that he did. Whatever it was that Heero and Trowa had offered him earlier that night – he wanted that, and he would fight for it.

Solo started to shake his head, but Quatre laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Solo," his voice was a soft command. "Heero is the most loyal soldier in all of Thera. No one could protect Duo better."

Solo bowed his head for a moment and then sighed.

"Very well. But there will be no impropriety."

"Impropriety?" Duo echoed in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If Heero was thinking with his head instead of his dick then none of this would have happened!" Solo snapped. "Alex and Trant will guard Duo from now on, but you may remain as the Captain of the Guards if no other blunders occur."

Heero's face was like a wall of stone, it was so blank and still.

"And Trowa?" Duo bit out.

"I'm sure Sylvia has uses for him in Kos." Without another word, Solo rose and swept from the room.

Quatre shot Duo a look of sympathy before leaving as well.

Silence stretched between the three men, taunt and painful.

"How are you?" Heero finally asked Duo, his voice emotionless.

"I'll be fine," Duo said, wondering just what _fine_ could even mean after this.

Trowa pulled away from him and climbed out of the bed. Duo watched as he silently dressed. He caught Heero also watching the other man, and there was a raw pain in his eyes that made Duo's eyes sting.

This was his fault. These two men had been together for ten years, and because of him they were being separated and diminished. He had nearly cost Heero his career, and because of him Trowa was now banished from Antioch and from his lover. And from Duo.

Trowa pulled on his trousers and fastened them at his waist. He reached for his shirt, dangling from the mantle over the fireplace, but stopped in the middle of the gesture and seemed to freeze. His shoulders slumped and he drew in several loud, ragged breaths.

"Damn it all to hell," Trowa muttered. He looked up at Heero and smiled sadly. "I knew we should have left him tied up and gagged at the palace."

Heero nodded slowly but remained silent, his face still painfully blank. Trowa sighed and crossed the room to him and took his head between his hands.

"You've made my life worth living, Heero," Trowa told him, his voice a hoarse whisper. He kissed the other man, and Duo had to turn away from the sight.

He had destroyed this, just as he had ruined every other good thing in his life. Duo's mere existence seemed to be a guarantee of doom and disaster.

A few moments later the bed sunk as Trowa sat down on it, now fully dressed. He waited until Duo met his gaze before speaking.

"I had fun in the wagon, too," Trowa told him softly.

Duo stared at him in shock. Trowa was joking about that _now_?

"Take care of him, will you?" Trowa asked Duo as he looked over his shoulder at Heero. "Sometimes he does stupid things if there's not anyone there to call him on it."

"I'm sorry," Duo breathed. "I ruined –"

Trowa silenced him with his lips. The kiss was strangely both gentle and firm.

"No, you didn't," Trowa assured him as he pulled away. "Besides, you were right. It was worth it."

He stood and strapped on his sword and collected his oilskin cloak.

"What are you – where are you –" Duo started to ask.

"I'll cross the river now and assist from that side. As soon as the free workers are safe I'll leave."

"You can return to Antioch with us, at least," Duo pointed out, remembering Solo's words.

Trowa shook his head.

"There's nothing for me there." His lips twisted into a wry grin. "Nothing I can take with me, at any rate."

"You're returning to Kos."

"No. I'm not going to crawl back to Sylvia like a whipped dog." Trowa looked over at Heero. "As Solo said, I am a son of Ios. I can make my own path. There are places I can be more useful than holed up in a castle in the mountains of Kos."

Duo frowned. He had no idea what Trowa was talking about, but the man seemed to have made up his mind.

Without another word, Trowa was gone.

"Heero –"

The guard cut him off with a gesture of his hand.

"You should dress. It's almost dusk and the free workers will start to cross soon. Once the Mysians realize what we're doing they will attack the fort with all of their force. It won't stand long."

Heero's words had no emotion in them, and it felt like a physical blow to Duo.

"I'll wait for you outside, and then take you to Alex. He'll protect you during the evacuation."

And then Heero left him as well.

* * *

The free workers were able to escape the fort almost without incident, using the guideline set up by Trowa.

At Carl's urging they destroyed the fort using the rest of Tsubarov's saltpeter stores. There was no reason to give the Mysians such a strong fortress, and it certainly took more than a few Mysians into the afterlife.

After a few hours of camping around fires to warm them, the refugees started their long, slow march back to Antioch.

Duo found himself practically tied to Alex during the return to Antioch. The guard seemed to spend every moment at his side, and the few times when he did step away Carl would take over, pacing Duo like a silent shadow.

Heero kept his attention focused solely on Solo, not even bothering to look at Duo, and it was clear that the guard had decided to take Solo's command to heart and to ignore Duo's very existence.

Trowa had vanished that first night, while the free workers huddled around the fires and the ruins of the fort at South Pass smoldered in the background. Not even the other Sentinels knew where he had gone to.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Chapter 12**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this! I appreciate your patience with me for not updating this as frequently as some of my other work.

A/N #2: To Anonymous: I wish you would sign in! I have the feeling that you are one of the Anons who reviews a few of my stories, and I'd love to respond to your lovely reviews! But, as you read this, just know that I appreciate you – and your defense against the (I wholeheartedly agree) idiotic flamer. I hope you continue to enjoy my other work, and this one – I'm glad that it's your favorite!

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Twelve

Trowa headed south.

The winter snows had set in and the trail from South Pass to the Western Wood seemed to be just one treacherous snow drift after another, the entire landscape a blanket of unrelieved white.

He had very few clear memories of his childhood in Ios before Gregory had taken him hostage along with most of the nobility in Hellas. But he remembered the salty air, strong wind, and bright, sunny days. As he continued to ride south he found himself thinking more and more about those memories, trying to tease out any warmth in them.

Trowa barely remembered his parents – just the sensations of being held by them, the deep rumble of his father's voice, and the feel of his mother's silken hair against his face. He knew that his sister Cathy, six years older than him, had more memories of their parents than he did, but he had never wanted to indulge himself by asking her to share them.

She had married Sylvia's older brother, Ernest, nearly eight years ago now, and at the time had been trying to persuade Trowa and Sylvia to marry as well. It had seemed like a natural fit – Ios and Kos were more closely tied than any of the other kingdoms of Hellas, and when Trowa had been a child, when Ios had still existed, their parents had planned such a match for them. But Trowa had no desire to share Sylvia's kingdom, and certainly no desire to tie himself to her if it would mean never seeing Heero again.

Ironically, it looked like fate had decided to go that route in any case.

He couldn't say that he was surprised at Solo's reaction to seeing him holding Duo, or at his anger with Trowa and Heero for allowing Duo to endanger himself, but he was… heartbroken seemed too light a description.

For as long as he could remember, Heero had been his friend, later his lover, but always a part of his life, always a constant force that he had been drawn to. It was near impossible for Trowa to imagine his existence without him. But now he would have to live without Heero, and without Duo.

Trowa could only conclude that they had been greedy. He and Heero had been transfixed by the bright glimmer of Duo and had reached for something too good for them to have. So now the three of them had been sentenced to life without the other.

At least Heero was there, would be there to protect Duo and to see him. It was strange to think that Trowa had only known the prince for a short time but already felt as though he were connected to him – not as strongly perhaps, but certainly with the potential to be – as he was to Heero.

He never should have allowed himself to become involved. Trowa's past had been destroyed and his future had always been bleak. It had been selfish to want either of them.

Trowa met few travelers on the road until he was deep in the Western Wood, closer to Mysia than to Thera, and he only stopped to share a fire with the smaller groups.

One night he happened across two families, travelling together and headed north to Kos, and they invited him to share their meal and the fire of the camp.

They had the look of people living hard lives, their faces gaunt in the firelight and their limbs dirty and thin. He felt guilty even accepting the hunk of bread a small child passed to him, but he didn't want to insult their pride, and he was hungry.

"Where you headed?" One of the older men asked Trowa as he sat and ate.

"Dunno yet," Trowa said truthfully. He had a half-formed plan in his mind, but it was crazy enough that he still doubted his ability to carry it out. "You lot?"

"North, to Kos if there's work," the first man said.

"We were burned out of our homes," the woman beside him muttered. "Two weeks ago."

"The Mysians."

The man nodded.

"Ever since Duo Maxwell disappeared they've been pushing into the free worker villages that supported his rebels." The man sighed. "We thought he would be there to protect us, but…"

Trowa frowned.

"Then you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Did they kill him?" One of the children, a young boy, asked breathlessly.

"No. He's the long lost prince of Thera. Just this past week he helped save hundreds of free workers under siege at the South Pass."

The man and woman exchanged looks.

"A prince? We had the prince under our roof! Poor lamb." She turned suddenly bright eyes to Trowa. "He's a fine boy, generous and strong."

Trowa nodded in agreement.

"I know."

"So you've met him?" Another child asked.

Trowa nodded again.

"Is he tall like you? He's a giant, isn't he?"

To the child Trowa thought Duo would be a giant, and while he didn't want to crush his young aspirations, he thought that the truth might be more inspiring.

"No, he's short – not too much taller than you. You don't have to be a giant to fight the Mysians," Trowa told the child.

"Huh." The child sat back down, a pensive expression on his face.

"So he's just abandoned us then?" The man asked. "Gone back to Thera?"

Trowa frowned.

He could see how these people, so close to Mysia, might feel that way, and he could also understand that if Duo got wind of what was happening with them then he would no doubt come racing down here to fight the Mysians by himself.

Trowa sighed.

"No. In fact he's told both the King and Prince Solo that he wants to fight for your freedom. He's not abandoned you. He never will."

"We'll see," the man muttered. "We've been made promises before that were broken."

After that, Trowa avoided stopping unless he had to. It was one thing to allow himself to drown in thoughts of Heero and Duo, quite another to have to actually defend the prince from the people he had devoted himself to saving.

By the time he reached the Mysian border Trowa's mind was made. His plan, however crazy, was the one thing that he, and he alone could do to turn the oncoming war in Duo's favor.

* * *

Abydos was almost the exact opposite of Antioch. Instead of the city being divided by a river it was surrounded by it, an ancient tributary of it having been divided and directed to surround the city.

Trowa had traveled to Mysia many times with the Sentinels, but they had only ever camped outside the city gates of Abydos in deference to the enmity between Mysia and Thera.

Now, though, Trowa rode through the gates and contemplated just how far his life had diverged from what it had been meant to be. Just like that river, he thought bitterly, his life forced to follow the path that the Mysians had laid out for him instead of its own natural course.

He decided that riding up to the palace gates, while bold, was also the quickest way to set his new plan in motion. Trowa had shed his Sentinel cloak outside the city, and now he approached dressed much as any free worker or craftsman in Mysia would be.

The soldiers stopped him at the gates to the palace courtyard and Trowa mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

"The King of Ios wishes to see General Treize Khushrenada," Trowa informed the soldiers, not giving them a chance to address him first.

They exchanged confused looks.

"The King of… Ios?" The leader of the men spoke up. "There's no King of Ios anymore."

"There's no kingdom," Trowa corrected him with a growl. "I assure you there is still a king."

They conferenced among themselves for a few minutes, but eventually decided to call in a superior.

Luck must have been on his side, because the captain who came to investigate the situation decided that Trowa wouldn't be too great a threat to anyone and ordered him to surrender his weapons and horse before entering the palace.

Trowa was struck by just how different the climate in Mysia was than Thera. Even now, in early winter, it was still warm, and the gardens that the captain led Trowa to were in full bloom, roses of all colors decorating the stone walls and paths.

"Wait here," the captain directed. "Lady Une will be in to see you shortly."

* * *

Trowa had learned years ago that the best lies were based in truth. They were more believable, and as weapons they were a lot deadlier than something merely fabricated.

Of course, the trick with any sharp blade was that it cut both ways, and as Trowa mentally prepared his rationale for joining the Mysians, he was forced to confront the fact that the truths he had to draw on were dark and deep. It wouldn't be at all difficult to convince the Mysians that he had well and truly abandoned the Therans – not when it felt as though he genuinely had.

Une kept him waiting long enough that Trowa suspected her of having forgotten about him rather than trying to make a point about his insignificance, but after four hours of sitting alone the doors to the garden opened and she walked in.

Trowa had seen her before, at the Hellas games, and despite the fact that she wore her hair down instead of in its customary braids, she stood out easily – after all, she was one of the few women in this court or any who went around dressed in men's clothing.

"Trowa Barton," Une drawled as she walked closer to him.

He remained seated, and when she came to a stop in front of him they had a brief staring contest before Une laughed and bowed her head to him.

"Welcome, King of Ios," she intoned before sitting down on the bench opposite his.

"Your hospitality is… most impressive," Trowa drawled.

"I suppose you would find it lacking after years as the lapdog of both Sylvia and Gregory," Une murmured.

"So then you don't treat every visiting dignitary this poorly?" He pressed.

She laughed again, the sound harsh and brittle.

"Is that what this is? A visit from a _dignitary_? I didn't think the Therans were so subtle about sex. Shouldn't you just call yourself a whore, so that we're all clear?"

"Being the lover of a prince hardly makes me a whore," Trowa said lightly, stuffing away all of his emotions. Une was cruel and intelligent, and he couldn't afford any reaction to her words.

"It does, however, make you an enemy of my country."

"It did," Trowa agreed.

Une arched one eyebrow slowly.

"Pray tell, whatever happened? Because if you could spend the last ten years with the son of the man who destroyed your entire kingdom then this had to be a truly earth shattering event. Or do you still deny that Gregory played a role in the devastation of Ios?"

"I have never denied it," Trowa argued. "His narrow minded vanity cost me any future and led to the deaths of thousands. But I had to live somewhere, and being with Solo was… a solace."

"One that has presumably ended?"

Trowa knew that the Mysians had to have spies at the Theran court, which made this next part even trickier. Une had to know that he no longer shared Solo's bed, and hadn't for three years, but he could hope that enough of the argument between Solo, Heero, and he would get out for Une's spies to report back to her of their falling out.

"Years ago, as I'm sure you knew. I recently found other… comforts."

"Oh?" Une managed to look both interested and bored.

"The Crown Prince has returned to claim his throne – surely you've heard of him? He went by the name of Duo Maxwell for years."

Une's jaw clenched in anger.

"In any case, Solo grew jealous of my affair with _him_ and banished me from Thera." Trowa wasn't even sure that it was a lie – Solo's anger and his drastic reaction to Duo's wound at South Pass seemed out of character, and he struggled to understand just why Solo had thought the best course of action was to exile him.

"So you've been sleeping with both princes? Yet that doesn't make you a whore…" Une tapped one finger against her lips. "How the mighty have fallen. I suppose you've come running to Mysia then in the hopes of becoming one of Zechs' concubines?"

"Hardly," Trowa growled. "I'm done living at the whims of a prince, any prince."

"Then why are you here?"

"Revenge."

Une frowned.

"Indeed?"

Trowa nodded slowly.

"Gregory has taken everything from me. My home, my family, my people. Both of his sons – even my place with the Sentinels," he added, knowing it was pushing his luck. But he was confident that as soon as she heard that he had joined the Mysians Sylvia would renounce him.

"So you come to Mysia."

"Enemy of my enemy," Trowa murmured.

"Oh, I do hate that phrase," Une shook her head. "Yet we are also your enemy, are we not? Gregory set the stage for the fall of Ios, but it was Mysia who conquered it."

"A fact of which I am well aware. And recently you've been pushing into the territory of both Kos and Thera. While I will never love Mysia for what you have done to my country, I can certainly appreciate a superior power."

"What do you want – this revenge of yours?" Une asked.

"I want Gregory to be very, _very_ sorry he ever came up with his idiotic scheme to make Thera superior to all other nations and I want Antioch."

"The city?" Une echoed in disbelief.

"Yes. Relena won't be able to control such a vast empire without vassal kings. I'm willing to become one, if I'm given Antioch."

Une's mouth worked as she opened and closed it several times before finally laughing – a full, deep laugh that contrasted sharply with her earlier laugh.

"And why should Treize bother with you when he can simply put one of Relena's cousins in power instead?"

"Because I'm brilliant, and inbred lackeys would do nothing but run that city into the ground."

"So what will you give us in return for Antioch? You won't share Zechs' bed – and I don't trust you enough to allow you near Treize's, so –"

"As I said before, I'm done with that. As to what I can give _you_ … I was the trusted advisor to both Sylvia and Gregory, your two greatest enemies. Not only do I know exactly how they think, their strengths and weaknesses and plans for attacking your kingdom, but, as I said before, I'm brilliant. How many idiotic sycophants does Treize have giving him worthless advice because they want his favor? I'd be willing to bet you are one of the only intelligent advisors in this palace. I don't give a damn about Treize's favor – or Zechs' – I just want to win, and I can help you do that."

Une held his gaze for a long moment, and Trowa could see her weighing his words, judging their potential value against his potential risk.

Abruptly, Une stood and walked from the garden, leaving Trowa once again alone.

This time Trowa's wait was significantly shorter. Barely half an hour had passed when the doors opened yet again, this time to admit both Une and Treize.

Trowa had to fight down his immediate surge of hatred for the man who had commanded the army that destroyed his kingdom, but he was able to do it and keep his face perfectly blank.

Treize inclined his head a fraction in Trowa's direction before sitting down on the bench Une had earlier occupied and she took up position standing just behind him.

The general stared at Trowa, his sharp gaze searching his face for signs of weakness.

"I could torture any useful information out of you," Treize mused eventually.

"Perhaps," Trowa agreed, "but after hearing that a seventeen year old boy managed to get the best of your Inquisitor I think my chances are fair."

Treize smiled unpleasantly.

"Yes, but I said that _I_ could torture it out of you. I wouldn't dare waste such an important task on one of my idiotic sycophants, now would I?"

Trowa sat still, deciding that no response to that would be the safest route.

"A pity you don't have an interest in sharing Zechs' bed," Treize said with a small, irritated sigh. "He's always wanted to fuck a king… I suppose when we take Antioch we'll just have to kill Gregory, crown his bastard son, and allow Zechs to bed him before we execute him. Will he be worth the trouble?"

Treize's eyes reminded Trowa of a serpent, they were so narrow and beady, and his words were certainly filled with venom and aimed to wound.

Trowa shrugged one shoulder lazily.

"He's young and nubile and _eager_ ," he allowed, "and if Zechs has no one better to do…"

Treize smirked.

"And you want Antioch."

"I certainly deserve it," Trowa growled, allowing a little irritation into his voice.

"Deserve?" Treize mocked. "What do you think I deserve then, King of Nothing?"

"I say that a man deserves anything he can take. I'm sure you could conquer Thera and Kos without me, but I _know_ you can conquer them with my help, and certainly in less time and with fewer losses on your part."

"You assume I care about losses," Treize muttered. "So many mouths to feed… it's actually convenient for a few soldiers to be killed off in the course of battle.

Trowa certainly hadn't needed the reminder that Treize was a vile man with no concern for human life, but he had it now all the same. Treize was, he reflected, perhaps the exact opposite of Duo. The prince would never consent to losing the lives of Therans simply to avoid having to feed them.

"I assume you care about efficiency," Trowa corrected.

Treize smirked again.

"Indeed I do." He sighed. "My lady Une thinks we should cut off your head and sent it gift wrapped to Solo and Duo."

Trowa could only imagine how well _that_ would go over. Duo would, in all likelihood, blame Solo for his death and charge out of Antioch, Heero at his side, intent on personally killing Treize.

"No matter how much you flirt with me I won't sleep with you," Trowa replied and Treize laughed.

He stood and turned to Une.

"We'll keep him for now. See to it that he's given quarters and clean clothes. He'll dine with the Prince and the Queen tonight." Treize turned back to Trowa. "You have such pride and strength, it would be a true pleasure to bring you to your knees and show you just how weak and pathetic you truly are. Don't give me even the shadow of an excuse to do so."

With that he marched from the room.

"I take it you don't like me very much," Trowa said to Une once they were alone.

"I don't like how much you interest Treize," Une corrected and gestured for him to follow.

"I'm not sure I like how much I interest him either," Trowa murmured, just loud enough for Une to hear and give him a predatory smirk.

Trowa decided that he would rely on Une for his survival – he doubted that she had directed Treize to kill him, and it was clear that she was level-headed and above all wanted to ensure victory for Treize. If Trowa could stay on her good side, then he would be able to position himself to the best advantage.

* * *

Trowa wasn't sure who, exactly, had decided to give him the clothing of a military officer in the Mysian army, but he dutifully pulled on the crimson jacket and white breeches that he had long despised.

The quarters Une had given him were spacious, resembling the rooms he kept at the palace in Antioch, and as he stared at himself in the tall mirror of the water closet he struggled to maintain his façade.

He had spent years growing up with Zechs and with Relena, before the fall of Ios and Duo's kidnapping, but he had never thought to see them again. Not here, in their palace.

Ios and Kos were unique in Hellas, their cultures closely entwined and different from the rest of the kingdoms. Being an island, Ios had developed independently from the mainland, but Kos had been one of its first allies and the two kingdoms shared much of their values.

Sharing food, for both, was symbolic as well as nutritional. To share food with someone meant that you trusted them, and to accept food from someone meant that you honored them. The two concepts were foreign to most Therans and Mysians alike, but Trowa was willing to bet that Treize, at the very least, would know exactly how painful and hypocritical it was going to be for Trowa to share a meal with the family responsible for the deaths of an entire people.

Trowa drew in a deep breath, glared at his reflection until his face was expressionless, and then left his room. A guard escorted him to the dining hall, and Trowa was willing to bet that the guard would escort him everywhere he tried to go.

The dining room was small, clearly a private one for the royals and not one for larger events, and Une, Treize, Relena, and Zechs were already gathered when Trowa made his appearance.

"Good evening," Relena intoned solemnly, "we are delighted that you would choose to join us."

He had always wondered about her – how much she bought into her brother and his lover's schemes to conquer all of Hellas – but he couldn't fault her manners or her cool politeness. Whatever Relena thought about his presence she would clearly keep to herself.

Trowa inclined his head to her and then took the open seat at the opposite end of the table from her.

"Yes," Treize repeated and passed Trowa a plate of bread, "ever so delighted."

Trowa stared at the loaf for a long moment. He could see where the others had pulled off small pieces – a Mysian tradition, to start a meal with a small piece of shared bread – and it took all of his will to force himself to do the same.

He met Treize's gaze as he put the piece into his mouth and swallowed.

Treize smirked at him.

"Tell us, what are the Therans planning to do about their increasing incompetence at protecting their settlements?" Zechs spoke up.

Trowa turned away from Treize and looked at the prince. Zechs was nearly as dangerous as Treize, he knew, and certainly was no mental lightweight. Trowa had just thrown himself into a snake pit, with no perceivable escape.

He could do this. He _would_ do this. For Heero, for Duo, and for himself.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Chapter 13**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this! I appreciate your patience with me for not updating this as frequently as some of my other work.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Thirteen

One of the most important lessons Heero could remember his father teaching him had to do with pride.

As a young child, Heero had been allowed – even encouraged – to play with the princes held hostage in Gregory's court, and when the future rulers began to learn swordsmanship he had tagged along as well. He had found the entire thing a bit of a joke – his father had had Heero in training nearly as soon as he could walk while most of the royal children were picking up a blade for the first time. Of course, both Trowa and Solo had excelled at swordplay, and the first time that Trowa defeated him, Heero had felt like never going near a blade again. _He_ was supposed to better than all of these – _his_ father was the Captain of the Royal Guard. It was impossible to think that a mere prince from Ios, a land noted for its archers and _not_ its swordsmen, had defeated _him_. He had sulked for days, skipping the lessons and avoiding the royals, Trowa especially. After nearly a week of this behavior, his father had found him in the orchard.

Heero had noticed that the young crown prince, barely four years old, had taken to wandering away from his minders and liked to make his way to the orchard. Heero had seen Solo walk around with the young prince on his shoulders, helping him pick apples from the lowest branches, but it was quite an impossible task for the toddler to accomplish on his own.

On this day, Heero had climbed into one of the trees and sat watching the prince as he tried again and again to climb up one of the trees and reach for an apple.

The prince had just managed to cling to the tree and start scooting up it when Heero realized that he should probably stop him – after all, this was the child that Heero would spend the rest of his life protecting, it wouldn't do for him to let him fall from a tree and break his neck – but he was stopped by a firm hand on his ankle.

He looked down to see his father standing under the tree, eyes riveted on the prince struggling with the tree.

Heero turned his attention back to the prince as well, just in time to watch him tumble from the tree and land hard on the ground. He winced.

Instead of crying and giving up – and this was, by Heero's count, the eighth time the prince had failed in his mission – the boy leapt at the tree trunk and made yet another effort to reach the branches.

"Why does he keep trying to get the apples?" Heero's father asked, in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

Heero frowned, sensing this was a test.

"He can't be hungry," Heero reasoned, knowing that the prince could have just wandered into the kitchens and would be immediately spoiled with any kind of food he wanted.

"No," Odin agreed.

"He isn't gluttonous either," Heero added, remembering a few weeks ago when he had spied the prince hiding sweets in his shirt and later giving them to one of the serving women.

The prince fell out of the tree again, and this time gave a growl of frustration and spent a long few minutes glaring at the tree before he circled it several times and started to climb a different side. This time he quickly managed to find his way into the branches and in no time at all had picked several of the choicest apples, wrapped them in his shirt, and swung back down to the ground with a whoop of triumphant laughter. The grin that split his face was infectious, and even Heero in his dark mood found himself smiling slightly at the prince's victory.

"Solo! Solo I did it! I got the apples myself!" The boy started to yell and went running off, presumably to find his elder brother.

At a gesture from Odin, two guards materialized from the trees and started to follow him at a distance.

"He knew he could do it," Heero finally concluded, "and he wanted to prove it to Solo."

Odin nodded.

"Yes. It didn't matter how many times he failed – Duo _knew_ he could do this on his own."

Heero frowned. His father didn't often engage in discussions without an obvious point, so surely there was a lesson Odin wanted him to learn from this.

"You are my son," Odin said after a moment. "I have trained you in the ways of the sword for far longer than any of these princes, and yet you were defeated by the future king of Ios."

Heero hung his head in shame.

"I know," he breathed. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Odin asked.

"For losing."

Odin snorted.

"You shouldn't be sorry for losing to a superior opponent. You should be sorry for _this_ – for abandoning your duties and your lessons so that you could sulk."

"He isn't superior! He's an _archer_!"

Odin laughed.

"And you let that cloud your judgment, didn't you? You assumed that because he prefers to take down his enemies at range with a bow that he would be incapable of using a sword." Odin shook his head and gestured to the now abandoned apple tree. "Duo is like Trowa. Duo has only ever had Solo's help reaching those apples, he's never climbed a tree before, but he knew he could do it. He knew that if he found the right angle, if he just kept trying – he would be able to climb the tree and get the apples for himself. I've been watching these fighting lessons. I've seen Trowa lose seven fights, lose them badly, until a few days ago when he beat you – his first victory. He defeated you, the best swordsmen of the bunch. A mere archer. Do you know how he did it?"

"He didn't underestimate me," Heero said grouchily.

"True. But it's more than that. He _estimated_ you. Whenever Trowa wasn't fighting, and even sometimes when he was, he watched _you_ and he started to fight like you do. He learned from you and he learned your weaknesses and your strengths."

Heero frowned. He did the same, he watched the guards during their drills and he spied on his father whenever he sparred or accepted challenges from his men. Heero watched them because they were all better than he was, and he wanted to improve. But the princes just learning how to use a sword weren't better – they weren't worth watching and learning from.

He sighed, remembering how Duo had fallen from the tree that last time and walked around it, searching for the right place to climb.

"I should always know my opponents, so I can know their weaknesses," Heero concluded.

"Yes," Odin agreed, "and you should get over your ridiculous pride," he added tersely just before he gave Heero's leg a sharp jerk, sending him falling out of the tree only to land on the ground a few seconds later.

Heero winced at the pain that lanced through his side but forced himself to stand up and meet his father's gaze.

"Yes sir," he said.

Odin held his gaze for a long moment before nodding and walking away.

Two weeks later, Duo was kidnapped and Odin murdered as he defended the prince with his favorite sword – a gift from Heero's long dead mother.

Odin had always refused to use the golden hilted sword of Thera, the legendary sword that was worn by all the Captains of the Guards and used to defend the lives of the crown princes. Odin had always claimed that if he needed some charmed sword to do his job then he clearly wasn't good enough at it.

At Odin's sparsely attended funeral James, the new Captain of the Royal Guards, had muttered something about Odin's 'damned fool pride.'

Heero thought he had learned his lesson about pride _then_ , but apparently he had been wrong, and it had taken another fifteen years for him to really understand.

Duo could make as many attempts to climb an apple tree on his own as he wanted, but Heero had never had that luxury. He lost a fight to Trowa once as a child and had never lost another.

Heero had worked hard to cultivate his senses and constantly examined his surroundings and the people around him, assessing their strengths and weaknesses and how he could gain the upper hand if things came to blows.

Yet, just like his father, Heero had forgotten to assess his own weaknesses. Odin thought he hadn't needed a legendary sword to do his job. Heero had thought he could have the love of a king _and_ a prince. He had forgotten that he was the son of a man who had failed, and he had forgotten that _he_ was a failure.

When they arrived back in Antioch their entire party was somber. The South Pass refugees were given temporary lodgings in Antioch for the winter, the surviving soldiers awarded medals for their bravery, Carl promoted and given the role of military advisor at Solo's bidding, and Trowa's name was mentioned by no one.

Heero was certain that Solo and Gregory discussed the absence of the Sentinel, as well as Heero's own shortcomings during the South Pass Campaign, as Gregory had taken to calling it, but neither Gregory nor Solo spoke to him of it.

Neither did Alex or Trant. The two Lieutenants still reported to Heero for orders, still accepted the schedule he worked out for guard duty for the young prince, but the look in their eyes told Heero all he needed to know: he had failed them as well.

And Duo…

Before South Pass, Duo had seemed to be a mere specter of the man Heero had first met while he buried the remains of the rebels and then spent days plotting escape. South Pass had given Duo a cause and a _job_. Now, back at the palace in Antioch with tighter security and fewer friends, Duo became a ghost of his former ghost. Heero looked at him sometimes and thought that he wasn't even there, his face was so blank and his eyes so empty.

Solo had begun to prepare for the spring campaign season and Heero, having assigned himself the task of protecting Solo now, was there when Duo attempted to sit in on the meetings and was turned away by his elder brother.

To Heero's knowledge, it was the first time that the two had spoken since their return to Antioch, and it was clear that Duo was making an effort to move past his feelings towards his brother.

The advisors Solo had selected – Quatre, Carl, Ralph, and several generals from the military – had already assembled in the room when Duo entered.

All discussion ceased, and Solo looked up at his brother.

"Lost?" Solo asked.

"No," Duo moved to take a seat at the table.

"This is no place for you, little brother," Solo said. "You've had your fill of adventures, I'd think."

Duo started to speak, but Solo held up a hand.

"Your education is lacking in fifteen years of study, you should be more concerned with that than these military actions. You've no place here."

There was a long, tense silence as the two brothers glared at each other. Finally, Duo looked away, and his violet eyes landed on Heero, who had to turn away immediately or risk making a complete fool of himself.

Duo's shoulders stiffened and he gave a brief, jerky nod.

"Sure," he agreed and left the room.

After he left, Solo gave a forced laugh.

"Damned annoying – little brothers. I'd forgotten what they're like."

A few of the generals joined in the laughter, but Heero saw both Carl and Ralph frowning slightly, as though the encounter had unsettled them. Quatre, meanwhile, had a very carefully neutral expression on his face. Heero wondered just how things were between he and Solo, after Quatre had disagreed with him and fought to keep Heero in Antioch.

Duo's habit of slipping out at night without his guard's knowledge seemed to have only grown worse with their return to Antioch, and Heero stayed up each night to follow him and ensure that he didn't do anything too foolhardy.

After three weeks of watching Duo covertly by day, seeing him slip farther and farther away from everyone around him, Heero finally decided to approach him one night during his nocturnal wanderings.

Duo often spent several hours a night in the library, and since Heero couldn't follow him inside without giving himself away, he had taken to standing silent guard over the prince during those hours.

Now, however, Heero followed him to the library and entered it only a few moments after Duo.

As soon as he stepped inside he found himself at the sharp end of Duo's sword.

"It's you," Duo said, and Heero couldn't tell if the other man was disappointed or not.

"Yes," Heero agreed and stepped to the side of the blade.

"You've been following me for weeks now."

It wasn't a question, but Heero found himself nodding in agreement anyway.

"I thought it was Alex or Trant at first… but those two…"

"If you keep sneaking away you'll get yourself killed. Mysia will send another assassin just as soon as they have word of what happened at South Pass." Which suddenly struck Heero as odd. It had been three weeks since their return – the Mysian army should have reported the incident by now, and while the winter snow made travel and communication difficult, Heero was confident that Mysia could have engineered some kind of retribution at least a week ago. So why hadn't they?

"They won't send an assassin for me – they'll send one for Solo. He's the one who led the army, the one on the battlements they saw." Duo pointed out.

Heero thought that everyone else was vastly underestimating Duo. He should be involved in the campaign meetings, at the very least because of his sharp mind. He sighed. It wasn't likely he could bring it up with Solo anytime soon.

"I'll go back to my room now," Duo said after a moment.

"Wait."

Duo put away his sword and stared at Heero, waiting just as he had requested. Only Heero didn't know quite what to say to him now.

Duo shook his head and gave Heero a small, bitter smile.

"Don't," he said. "Don't pretend – not you too."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"I ruined everything, I failed, and I know it. _You_ know it. I was stupid and selfish and – hell, I should have just tried to get past the two of you and do it myself but I wanted –"

"Are you insane?" Heero interrupted him. "What would you have accomplished by getting yourself killed?"

"I'm not incompetent and there were only seven guards. I wouldn't have been able to rush them like we did, but I could have lured them into smaller groups and taken them out. I've done it before. If the two of you hadn't been there, Solo would have no one to blame but me. Instead, I ruined your life. I took away the one person you love and I've destroyed your career. So I guess maybe I am incompetent," he finished bitterly.

"You ruined nothing. You took nothing from me, Duo." Heero shook his head and wondered, for a few seconds, if maybe he should blame Duo – but even that short amount of time was enough for him to decide that the idea was completely ridiculous. "Saved hundreds of lives, you did the right thing."

"But you and Trowa –"

"Made our own decision. We decided to love you, and that isn't something you can take from either of us."

Duo's eyes widened, and Heero realized what he had said. He also realized that it was true – he did love Duo. How could he not? Everything about Duo – his actions, his beliefs, his scars – spoke of a man of honor and passion and Heero certainly felt more than mere physical attraction for him.

"I didn't know," Duo said after a moment, and his voice was hoarse with emotion. "I thought it was just me. I didn't –"

"You shouldn't," Heero interrupted him again, unable to hear any sort of declaration or another apology. "You shouldn't love me – or even Trowa. We can never be together, Duo. I can never touch you or kiss you. I only get to hold you in my dreams – and that isn't enough for you. Move on. Forget us."

Duo shook his head and took a step towards Heero, who found himself backing up. He knew, instinctively, that touching Duo now would only result in more pain for both of them. While he anticipated a certain level of soul crushing pain for the rest of his life for himself, he didn't want that for Duo.

"Move on?" Duo echoed. "I've spent my entire _life_ moving on. I've buried almost everyone I've ever known and you and Trowa are the only ones I've ever loved. Move _on_?"

"Would it be easier if I left?" Heero asked, knowing that if Duo said yes he could go immediately. He wasn't quite sure how he would function without both Trowa and Duo – perhaps he could infiltrate the Mysian army and destroy them from within. It would be a suicide mission, but it would avenge both of the men he loved and it would, at the very least, give him something worth dying for.

"No." Duo ran a hand through his hair. "Why do I fuck up everything I touch?" He groaned.

"You didn't –"

"I _did_!" Duo shouted. "You and Trowa were perfect! And now – what the hell have I done? I –"

"We weren't perfect," Heero growled. "We weren't," he repeated when Duo started to speak again. "We survived together. We loved each other and we were able to get through most days simply because we knew someone else existed who understood our pain. We weren't perfect. We _never_ had a future, Duo. One way or another, Trowa and I knew that our lives together were a dream that would end. You… you were this damned unattainable, blinding hope. Neither of us could resist you, could resist the temptation of your fire. You haven't just survived, Duo, you've triumphed. Every challenge that meets you, you succeed. This… this is just like the apple tree, Duo."

The prince frowned, not making the connection.

"The first time you picked apples for yourself, from the orchard, I spent an hour watching you fall on your ass before you finally figured out the right way to climb the tree."

Duo's brow knit with concentration.

"Yeah – it was autumn and Solo was in those damned lessons they wouldn't let me go to. I ran away from the nurses and from Relena and I went to the orchard. It took me forever to figure out how to climb the tree."

"But you did."

Duo frowned.

"I don't really get what you're telling me here."

"Life is just one big apple tree, Duo. You've only started to climb it – you're nineteen, Duo, you have your entire life ahead of you. Trowa and I… we were just the closest apples, on the lowest branches. But the best ones – the ones that get the most sun, those are higher up."

"Bullshit," Duo snapped. "That's complete fucking bullshit. If climbing that tree taught me anything it's that I didn't need Solo to get things done for me." Duo's eyes narrowed and he nodded, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. "That's exactly what that tree taught me," he repeated and then smirked.

Heero didn't like that smirk, not at all.

"Duo –"

"I'm going back to bed," Duo said, "you should do the same. You look like shit."

"Then stop sneaking away from your guards. I can't sleep knowing you're in danger."

Duo sighed, but something in Heero's eyes seemed to affect him, and he nodded.

"Okay. I won't sneak away from them anymore."

Duo started to walk past Heero, but stopped by his shoulder and leaned across his body to kiss him lightly on the mouth.

"And I don't want the damned sunny apples. The ones on the lower branches are the juiciest, after all." Duo smirked at him and then left.

It took Heero a moment to gather himself enough to follow the prince, but he did, and watched as he snuck back into his quarters, before he finally allowed himself the luxury of a few hours of sleep.

Of course, that one innocent kiss and those far from innocent words had Heero's mind conjuring up any number of visions that did little to put him in the mood for sleep.

Heero had wanted to convince Duo to move on, to live his life and forget about him and Trowa. Instead, he had somehow managed to convince Duo to rebel against his brother.

Maybe Solo was right, maybe Heero was a bad influence on Duo.

* * *

The next day Heero escorted Solo to the war room, as the prince had dubbed it, and wasn't at all surprised to see that Duo was already in the room, seated at the table, and deep in debate with Norman, a crusty old general who had lost his right arm and both his sons to the Mysians several years ago.

When Solo walked in Duo offered a jaunty wave.

"Morning, brother. Norman and I were just discussing our impressions of Mysian defensive tactics. Did _you_ know that it's only over the last six months that they've switched formations so that their patrols consist of seven instead of five men?"

Heero watched the play of emotions across Solo's face before the prince shook his head and sat down in his usual seat.

"No, I hadn't," he eventually bit out.

Duo nodded enthusiastically.

"Norman didn't realize either."

"Duo's seen more recent combat against the Mysians than most of our army combined," Norman added helpfully, "he's got some damned useful insights."

Solo glared at Heero.

"Don't blame him for me having a brain," Duo snapped angrily. "You'd be an idiot to keep me out of these meetings. Not only have I spent the last fifteen _years_ fighting the Mysians in one way or another, but I've escaped from the royal dungeons and, if you've managed to forget, I killed the High Inquisitor. I think I might be able to provide a few useful bits of information that might help you plan out your damned campaigns."

Their glaring match was broken when Quatre, Ralph, Carl, and the other generals arrived.

"Morning," Duo greeted them brightly.

"Morning," Car returned cautiously.

It was ironic and more than a little depressing that, in the weeks since their return from South Pass, Carl was the only person in the palace who seemed to make any effort towards Duo. Carl, a man who had spent years hating the prince.

Wufei had barely left Meilin's side in the last few weeks, as she neared the date of her delivery, and Heero knew that without those two, or himself and Trowa, Duo was almost entirely alone. He was grateful for Carl, but made a mental note to have words with Wufei soon. This couldn't go on.

"Are you joining us?" Quatre asked and looked from Duo to Solo.

Duo grinned at his brother, waiting for him to answer the question.

"For today," Solo growled. "Duo feels he can provide a new perspective to our plans."

"Course he can," Norman said with an enthusiastic nod. "The boy has a natural instinct for tactical planning."

Heero was taken aback by just how quickly and thoroughly Duo had managed to charm Norman. The general was well known for his general hatred of _everyone_ and belief that no one aside from the King displayed any intelligence whatsoever – a belief that included Solo and Quatre as having only marginal mental capabilities.

Duo smirked triumphantly, and inside his head, Heero could hear an echo of the whoop of delight the prince had given fifteen years ago when he had finally picked his own apples.

By the time the meeting ended two hours later Heero, who was already impressed by Duo, found himself even more so. Duo did have a natural instinct for tactical planning, and even though Solo seemed intent of fighting off every suggestion Duo gave, the others in the room, even Quatre, almost immediately agreed to his ideas.

Solo left the meeting in an angry huff, and Heero started to follow him when Quatre requested that he remain behind.

Heero watched as the others filed from the room, Duo accepting thanks from most of the generals for his input. Heero also watched as, once he stepped from the room and was alone again, Duo's shoulders seemed to slump and his expression lost its animated quality and returned to the dull, blank mask he had worn for the last few weeks.

"Was there something you wanted?" Heero asked Quatre, unable to keep his anger at Duo's transformation from his voice. This was simply _wrong_.

"I wanted to apologize, to you, for Trowa."

Quatre was having trouble meeting Heero's gaze.

"You tried to make Solo see reason, it wasn't your fault," Heero assured the blonde, remembering that as ruthless and well trained Quatre was as a soldier, he was still emotionally vulnerable. In some ways, he and Duo were very similar.

Quatre sighed.

"No, I didn't," he argued.

Heero frowned.

"You did. You asked him to keep me. You –" Heero frowned as he suddenly realized that Quatre _had_ stood up for him, but hadn't said a word about Trowa staying in Antioch. "Why?" He asked. "Why didn't you say anything? You could have asked him to keep Trowa – you asked him to keep me."

Quatre shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Heero. I couldn't."

"Why?" Heero repeated his question again.

"You saw the way that Trowa looked at Duo when he carried him into the room. He's never looked at anyone like that – no one but you."

Heero frowned, still not following Quatre's logic.

Quatre growled in frustration and ran a hand through his hair.

"You didn't see Solo's face. He was jealous."

"Of what?"

"Of Duo! He was jealous that Trowa cared that much for him. Trowa never felt that deeply for Solo – for Trowa it was always friendship, and Solo felt much more than that for him."

This was news to Heero, and he suspected that it would have been new information for Trowa as well.

"You're saying that Solo sent Trowa away because he was jealous that Trowa liked Duo more than _him_?" He found it hard to reconcile the idea that his entire life had been destroyed based on pettiness.

"No. Partially. Solo truly felt – even now, a part of him still feels – that you and Trowa encouraged Duo to be reckless."

"He came that way," Heero growled. "Trust me when I say that if I could do anything, encouraging his recklessness is the exact opposite of what I'd like to do."

"I know that – and deep down Solo does too. But that entire idiotic quest made him almost lose his brother again and he was scared. And angry, and yes, a little jealous."

Heero shook his head.

"You spoke up for me, why didn't you do the same for Trowa?"

Two bright spots appeared high on Quatre's cheeks.

" _I_ was jealous," Quatre confessed.

"What the hell were you jealous of? You were jealous of Duo also?"

"No! I was jealous that Solo was jealous! It only proved that he still had feelings for Trowa, that he felt betrayed by Trowa's feelings for Duo, and I didn't – I couldn't –"

"You allowed Trowa to be sent away because you felt insecure?" Heero felt a cold rage build inside of him. "You destroyed my life and Trowa's life because Solo had a moment of –"

"It wasn't a moment! He's always loved him! He's always wanted to invite him into our bed. Trowa's devotion to you is the only reason Solo never pushed him to join us. This has been going on for _years_."

Heero shook his head.

"You have eyes, Quatre, and you certainly have a brain. I'm sure you've noticed just how well Duo has adjusted to Trowa's absence and to my distance from him."

"I hate that he's devastated. I wish he hadn't fallen for the two of you so hard, but –"

"Devastated? You say that like he's wandering around with his heart cut out. He's not. He's wandering around trying to find anything to do with his life that has _any_ value. Duo didn't just lose his friends – and I want to stress that, his _friends_ because we never even had the chance to become lovers – he lost theonly two men that he trusted. He's got no one now. No one to believe in and no one who believes in _him_. He orchestrated the rescue of hundreds of free workers and now what is he doing – living as a prisoner in his own palace because Solo thinks he was too reckless when he was with Trowa and I?" Heero shook his head. "If you want to see reckless, wait until the spring. Wait until the snow melts and see if Alex and Trant have even a hope of keeping him safe when the campaign season starts."

Heero walked from the room before he allowed himself to say more. He had said enough to warrant demotion and time in the dungeons, if Quatre went to Solo with complaints, but he could very easily have said enough to earn an execution.

All of this time, Heero had spent nearly every waking moment hating himself, knowing that he had failed Duo and Trowa by allowing that damned Mysian to sneak up on him in the first place. He had been so angry and filled with pain over the fact that fate had finally decided to take away the two bright spots in Heero's life.

Yet it wasn't fate at all. It was pettiness. It was jealousy and it was weakness. It was sitting up in a tree, hiding and sulking, instead of facing your own weaknesses.

It took nearly an hour for Heero to work through his anger with Solo and Quatre to a point where he could go back to guarding Solo and feel confident the desire to punch him wouldn't overwhelm his natural instinct to protect his prince.

By that time, Gregory had gathered Solo, Duo, Ralph, Carl, Quatre, and a few trusted courtiers in the Winter Gardens. An intelligence report had just arrived from Abydos – the first since in two weeks – and the poor boy tasked with delivering the report from the spy master looked dead on his feet as he stood before the gathered crowd.

Duo, at least, had the decency to order a servant to bring hot cider for the boy, and after a few gulps of the stuff he looked more alive and was able to begin his report.

"There's been new developments in the army – ever since the South Pass event they've stepped up their recruiting. Now, when they burn freeworker's out, they take the men and boys and conscript them. They've nearly doubled the size of their army."

Solo swore.

"We should have retaliated when we had the chance!"

The boy shook his head, a risky move to argue with his rulers, and seemed to realize it instantly.

"Sorry, my prince," he said quickly.

"Why?" Duo asked. "Why shouldn't we have retaliated?"

The boy hesitated, then sighed, clearly unhappy to be caught between the two.

"The Mysian armies were already in place around their own settlements – the South Pass event was a trap. We didn't know til after – til they returned and Treize was angry that the Theran's hadn't attacked any of the settlements in retaliation. Any army sent against a Mysian settlement would have been wiped out."

Heero allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction at the look on Solo's face as he realized that his craze for vengeance would have gotten himself killed.

"There's more…" the boy shifted on his feet. "The Mysians have a new ally."

"Who have they managed to beat into submission now?" Gregory asked tiredly. " Iberia?"

"No. No – there was no beating involved. Nothing like that. It's Ios. The King of Ios is Treize Khushrenada's new advisor."

It took most of the courtiers a moment to remember who the King of Ios was. But several – Solo, Quatre, Carl, Duo, Gregory, Ralph – showed instant recognition.

"You did this," Duo hissed at Solo. " _You_ –"

"He betrayed _you_ , Duo! He betrayed you – I've only ever wanted to protect you! Don't you see that now? He never loved you! He –"

Duo turned and walked from the room, ignoring everyone, including Heero.

Unfortunately, no one else ignored Heero. Solo and Gregory instantly turned to him.

"He said he could be useful elsewhere," Heero told them. "I need to speak with my guards immediately. Our security has been completely compromised."

Before either his king or his prince could speak, Heero also left.

As he headed towards the guards quarters he fought to keep his mind empty of emotion.

But he couldn't resist the sense of betrayal he felt. _How_ could Trowa have done this? How could he have joined the Mysians and –

He suddenly remembered his own thoughts of infiltrating the Mysian army and trying to destroy it from within.

"You selfish bastard," he couldn't help but say out loud when he realized what Trowa was doing.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Chapter 14**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, lemons, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this! I appreciate your patience with me for not updating this as frequently as some of my other work.

**Lost Dreams**

Chapter Fourteen

The morning of Duo's twentieth birthday was dim and gray. Fresh snow had fallen the previous night and the entire city of Antioch appeared to be coated in white.

Hellas, Duo had discovered when he returned to Antioch, loved the snow. The dog was quickly growing into her huge paws and perhaps the most carefree moments Duo had spent in his entire life were when he walked with her through the frozen orchards and threw snowballs for her to fetch.

He also appreciated the time alone to think.

Life had certainly taken unexpected turns for Duo over the last year.

He had thought he would never return to Antioch, yet here he was.

He had thought he would never see Solo again, yet he had, and now he and his brother could barely stand to be in the same room with each other.

He had thought he would never have friends, yet Wufei and Meilin, even as new parents completely absorbed in their daughter's life, were his friends.

He had never thought he would fall in love, yet he had.

He had never thought he would live to be twenty, yet here he was. The Mysians hadn't succeeded in killing him yet, and Duo was more determined than ever to thwart their plans.

Of course, having Solo determined to thwart _his_ plans for thwarting the Mysians plans was far from helpful.

A very small part of Duo understood Solo's obsession with keeping him safe and out of harm's way, but a much larger part of him was tired of being treated like a child who had to depend on everyone around him.

Duo wasn't a child – in fact, he had never really had a childhood – and he certainly didn't deserve to be treated like one.

It had taken several weeks for Solo not to balk outright whenever Duo had suggestions for the spring campaigns, but things had improved to the point that Solo now let Duo finish speaking before jumping in to say how wrong his plans were.

Even Carl had started to trust Duo's ideas, so it was beyond frustrating for Duo whenever Solo started to shake his head and lean forward to say "no, no, that will never work."

Quatre was the only one who seemed able to get through Solo's antagonism and convince him that Duo's ideas had merit, and Duo very much appreciated the other man's friendship and constant presence at the meetings.

Duo just wished that he could see a clear path out of this mess. Things had been simpler, before, when he had just been a rebel – he had had a cause and he had had allies, but he hadn't had _obligations_ or an overbearing brother or a desperate urge for human contact. He had existed merely to exact revenge on the Mysians for all those who couldn't.

But that time was over now. _Now_ he had to be a prince of Thera. It was ironic that Duo felt trapped and imprisoned when, in Solo and Gregory's minds, he was finally free.

As Duo continued his walk around the palace grounds he followed Hellas towards the distant pastures where, months ago now, he had first kissed Trowa while the other man tried to teach him how to shoot an arrow.

The same target was still strapped to a fencepost, but a different Sentinel stood in the snow now.

Duo leaned against the fence and Hellas obediently sat down by his feet and the two of them watched Ralph shoot arrow after arrow into the target.

While Ralph wasn't anywhere near as mesmerizing to watch as Trowa, Duo still found himself fascinated by the precision of Ralph's arrows and the smooth way he drew the bow back repeatedly.

"Want to give it a try?"

Ralph's voice startled Duo.

"Ah, no thanks. I'm pretty hopeless."

Ralph turned and regarded him with amusement.

" _You_ hopeless? All you've ever done is prove to people that you aren't hopeless."

Duo shook his head in disagreement.

"No, I'm really not very good. Trowa tried to teach me, before, and… "

"Come here," Ralph interrupted with a shake of his head. "Trowa is many things… but he isn't the _only_ one who can teach you how to shoot."

There was an underlying tone of jealousy to Ralph's words, and Duo was reminded of the time when Ralph had tried to proposition him.

He shook his head again, ready to say no, but Ralph's next words made him change his mind.

"The Hellas games are coming up – Trowa's never missed them. Don't you want to show him you don't need him?"

Duo didn't, actually, want to show him that. But he did want to see Trowa and he did need to keep up this façade of being devastated after Trowa's seeming betrayal.

"Okay, but I warned you," he cautioned Ralph.

"I'll take my chances."

* * *

Two hours later, and Duo had finally landed an arrow in the target, unaided by Ralph, and with his eyes open.

"I did it," he said, still unconvinced that _he_ had finally managed the feat after so many failed attempts.

Ralph chuckled.

"You did. Now see if you can do it again."

Duo frowned at that but when Ralph gave him a challenging look he drew another arrow and settled it along the bow before pulling back the bowstring.

As soon as he loosed the arrow he knew it would hit the target – and sure it enough, it was just inches from the center – and Duo gave a delighted laugh.

Ralph grinned at him before walking over and giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"Well done," he said, leaning close so that his words were a puff of warmth against Duo's neck.

"I'm not sure if a Prince of Thera has _ever_ demonstrated such skill with a bow before," a voice said from behind Duo.

He turned to see that an audience had accumulated and he felt embarrassed that he had been too focused on learning how to shoot to even realize people had approached.

Solo, Quatre, Heero, and Alex were gathered on the other side of the fence.

Duo met Solo's gaze, wondering if he would follow up his comment with some jab at Trowa.

"Nonsense," Quatre said. "Your father competed in the archery event at a few Hellas games, when he was just a prince."

Duo smirked.

"Good. I'll be following family tradition."

Solo scowled.

"How?"

"By competing in the archery event at the Hellas games – and the fencing event."

"No, you won't," Solo assured him.

"Yes, I _will_."

"You are the future king!"

"And once upon a time, our father was the future king and _he_ competed. The Hellas games are neutral, aren't they? So there's nothing to worry about."

"Our father never killed the Mysian High Inquisitor! Our father was never an infamous rebel who spent years attacking the Mysians!"

"So I'm not _quite_ following in his footsteps." Duo shrugged.

"You are behaving like a spoiled, selfish _child_ ," Solo growled.

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Isn't that how princes are supposed to behave?" he challenged.

Solo opened his mouth to continue the fight, but Quatre cleared his throat.

"Actually, we were looking for you to see if you wanted to go sledding."

Duo frowned in confusion.

"Sledding?"

"You've never been sledding?" The question came from Alex, who spoke infrequently enough that the sound of his voice surprised Duo.

"Ah… no."

"Then that settles it. You have to try it. We probably won't get too many more heavy snows this winter, so this might be one of your last chances this year."

Duo looked over at Solo, still furious, and shook his head.

"No. I'm kind of cold, actually and I think –"

"Go," Solo ordered. "Enjoy yourself. I'll take your dog back to the palace."

He turned to go, giving a sharp whistle that had Hellas jumping up and running after him.

Heero started to follow, but Solo waved a hand.

"Stay with them. Make sure no one gets hurt. If I leave the palace I'll find another escort."

Uncharacteristically, Heero didn't bother to argue with the prince.

Duo handed the bow and quiver of arrows to Alex.

"What the hell is this sledding think?" he asked the Sentinel.

"Some idiotic sport the Therans invented," Ralph muttered. "You find a hill covered in snow or ice and you strap yourself to a sled – usually it's wooden or steel, most of the times they use old shields actually – and you throw yourself down the hill."

"That sounds idiotic," Duo agreed.

"It is – and dangerous. Be careful."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Afraid all of your hard work will be for naught if I end up dead in a sledding accident?"

Ralph gave Duo a somber nod.

"There are precious few Therans who can use a bow – I'd hate for that number to diminish further."

Duo chuckled and Ralph nudged his shoulder.

"Go on – you're a Theran, so you're probably dumb enough to think it will be fun."

"Come with us?"

"No. Sentinels do _not_ strap ourselves to flimsy little things and fly down mountains." Ralph injected enough disdain in his voice that it was clear Duo wouldn't be able to convince him. "But happy birthday, Prince of Thera."

"Thanks."

Duo joined Quatre, Alex, and Heero on the other side of the fence and fell in step with Quatre as the blonde started to walk away from the pasture.

He couldn't resist looking back at Heero and he was confused to see an angry expression on his face.

"So, you and Ralph… that looked… nice," Quatre said.

Duo turned to him.

"Um, yes, it was. Now I'm not a complete embarrassment when I pick up a bow. I'll probably _never_ be able to shoot it well, though."

Quatre shrugged.

"The important thing is that you are moving on. You were really enjoying yourself with him. That's good."

Duo suddenly understood the look on Heero's face.

* * *

Quatre led them on a hike up a steep, snow covered hill just outside the city gates, to the north. On their way they had stopped by the armory and collected a few old, dented shields.

"There's an old story about the Therans – or about the people who became the Therans," Quatre explained as they hiked the hill, shields strapped to their backs. "When they first arrived in these lands barbarians controlled them. The Therans fought them for years, driving them here, to Antioch, where the barbarians had a stronghold in the mountains that was almost impossible to get to. If you went in from below it was a natural bottleneck and the barbarians could slaughter any force, and from above…well, there was no passage in the mountains to march an army through. Anyway, the man leading the Theran army came up with the plan to attack by climbing the mountains, surrounding the barbarians, and diving down on them. He was the very first Theran to come up with sledding – he had all his men strap themselves to their shields and sled down. They defeated the barbarians and Antioch and Thera were founded."

Duo had to arch an eyebrow at the story.

"It happened a very long time ago," Alex added helpfully.

"You might be curious to know – that man, who led the armies? His name was Duo. He was the first king of the Therans," Quatre said.

They had reached the top of the hill and Quatre gestured towards the frozen expanse below them. Duo hadn't realized how high up they were, and he seemed to remember this hill having a lot of rocks.

"What – so just because I'm named after him I should be a natural at this?"

Quatre shrugged one shoulder.

"No, but I'd never have taken you for a coward."

Duo rolled his eyes at the other man's obvious baiting.

Quatre chuckled.

"You'll be fine. It's fun. I'll show you."

The blonde hefted his shield, wrapping his wrists around the straps on either side, and started to run towards the slope of the hill and then dove on the sled.

Duo watched in amazement as he sped downwards, seconds later arriving at the foot of the hill with a triumphant shout.

"Huh."

Heero arched an eyebrow at his continued reluctance and Duo sighed.

"Fine. I'll do the stupid Theran sledding thing."

He followed Quatre's example and took a running head start before throwing himself down the hill.

The impact of the sled on the snow was hard, knocking the wind out of his lungs, but the sensation of hurtling down the hill so fast was amazing, and Duo found himself smiling at the feel of the wind biting into his face. Maybe, he had to admit, this was kind of fun.

There was a sudden scrape of metal against rock, and the sled careened into the air. Duo held on for dear life as white and gray flashed by beneath him.

All too soon, the ground rushed up and Duo landed painfully against the freezing, solid white ground. The breath was knocked out of him, and he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

As he lay there on the snow, trying to breathe, all of the joy and lightness he had felt only moments ago seemed to recede, replaced by the darkness he had felt growing stronger every day.

"Duo! Duo!"

Heero's face suddenly appeared above his, worry knit into his brow and concern in his dark blue eyes.

"Are you hurt? Can you feel your legs? Duo, tell me where it hurts."

He knew it wasn't really what Heero was referring to, but since Heero was the only one who understood, and since he never had a chance to speak with the man, Duo moved one hand over his heart.

"Here," he said quietly.

Heero's expression softened, and he reached out to lay his hand over Duo's before catching himself and drawing back.

"Duo."

It was amazing just how much emotion and meaning Heero put into his name.

"I'm fine," Duo assured him and sat up to demonstrate. "Nothing I can't recover from."

He stood up and Heero joined him. The others were making their way down the hill and would join them in seconds.

"By the way, you're wrong. I'm not moving on – not with Ralph, not with anyone. I want you and I want Trowa. I'm not going to settle for anyone else."

Duo hoped he managed to convey his determination with his words and his eyes. The scowl Heero favored him with seemed to indicate that the Captain understand just how much he meant to Duo.

"Whatever my Prince wishes," Heero said, the right corner of his lips tipping up just slightly. Duo grinned in response.

"Duo!" Quatre shouted as he neared. "Duo! Are you okay?"

Duo rolled his eyes.

"Yes. I'm _fine_. Captain Yuy was here to make sure I didn't come to any harm," he added and gave Heero a significant look.

* * *

The rest of the day was filled with celebrations – sumptuous banquets and an array of courtiers, nobility, and the upper crust of Theran society giving Duo piles of gifts.

He barely remembered his birthdays from before his kidnapping, but he was nearly positive he had enjoyed them more than he was currently enjoying this one.

As a child at the Temple of the God of Death, the priests had given a small gift to every child at the orphanage on Duo's birthday. He had always enjoyed that - it was like some big, secret game that everyone get to win.

Later, when he had been on his own, he hadn't bothered to celebrate his birthday - it was, after all, merely the passing of another year.

He found himself wondering if things would have been different, this year, if Trowa were still here. Would he, Heero, and Trowa be together?

Duo's musings were interrupted by a string of well wishers as the courtiers started to take their leave of the party.

He still had no idea who most of the courtiers were – and he knew that was mostly his own fault. He tended to avoid their company most of the time – and he could count on one hand the people present who he considered to be his friends.

Wufei, Meilin, and their daughter Lijuan made an appearance at the evening meal to wish Duo a happy birthday. Meilin presented Duo with an ancient bronze dagger that had been in her family for generations, while Wufei held Lijuan with so much caution and affection it was clear that he was completely smitten with the child, despite the fact that she was a girl.

Meilin promised to continue their morning training sessions as soon as the snow started to melt, joking that Lijuan would attend so that she could start learning to be a warrior. Not surprisingly, Wufei had balked at the idea and insisted that she stay in the archives, with him.

Watching them leave, arguing about Lijuan's future, was the highlight of Duo's night.

As soon as he could he escaped the great hall and the celebrating courtiers.

He was well on his way to his quarters when Alex intercepted him.

"I'm not sneaking around," Duo complained. "I'm just going to my rooms."

"The King wishes to see you," Alex said.

Duo groaned. So far he had managed to avoid Gregory for most of the day. Every time his father had looked at him across the room today his eyes had been filled with regret and guilt, and Duo was in a dark enough place on his own that he didn't want to make Gregory feel worse about anything.

Reluctantly, Duo followed Alex to the Winter Garden, where Gregory waited for him, wandering the garden paths and admiring the blooming flowers.

Alex bowed and left them alone.

Part of Duo actually wished the guard would stay.

"Well, my son what present can I give you that you haven't already received?" Gregory asked after a few moments of silence between them.

"I want Heero Yuy back," Duo said without any preamble. He had a hard enough time finding anything to talk about with Gregory as it was, he didn't' think small talk would really help matters.

Gregory leaned back in his seat and stroked his beard.

"Why?"

"I trust him. He's the _only_ one I trust in this entire kingdom now. I'm not saying that I think Alex or Trant are going to stab me in the back, but Heero… knows me. He's seen me at my worst."

"That's the only reason you want him? Because you've known him longer than Trant or Alex?"

"It has nothing to do with length of time – but I should point out that yes, I've known him since I was a baby, before I was kidnapped. This is more than that. This is…" Duo struggled to put into his words just how he felt about Heero.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your lust for him, would it?" Gregory arched an eyebrow.

"No," Duo answered immediately and angrily. He was so tired of the Theran view that _everything_ had to be about sex. "This has nothing to do with my _feelings_ for Heero. This has everything to do with the fact that Heero helped me bury the butchered bodies of the free workers who had given me shelter and who I had sworn to protect. This has everything to do with the fact that Heero knows how many men I've killed, and why. He knows what I'm afraid of and he sure as hell knows what makes me angry. I trust him and damn it all, I'm tired of being a prisoner here! First I'm kidnapped by Mysian mercenaries and held captive, then I was trapped in the Mysian dungeons and tortured for _months_ and now – now I'm home and I'm still completely powerless to do anything! I don't give a damn about what Solo wants or what he thinks is best for me. I didn't fight him when he exiled Trowa and I'll regret that until the day I die. But I'm fighting now. He may be the elder son and he may be the leader of the Theran army but I'm your heir. I'm the future king of Thera and I've witnessed the cruelty of the Mysians first hand. I –" Duo ripped open his shirt and displayed the tattoo that had been carved into his flesh years ago. "I am reminded everyday of how powerless I am. Every time I see _this_ I remember and I am _done_ running away from the past. I'm going to the Hellas games, and in the spring I'm going on campaign. I don't give a damn if I have to raise my own army to do it – I'm going to fight the Mysians and I'm going to protect the free workers and the citizens of Thera."

Gregory had gone very pale at the sight of Duo's chest, and it took him a moment to recover enough to respond to Duo's tirade.

Finally, he rose to his feet and, before Duo could react, embraced him. It reminded Duo of that first day of his return, when Gregory had instantly recognized Duo despite the fifteen years that had passed.

Gregory pulled back, but kept his hands on Duo's arms and looked him in the eyes.

"What a king you will make," he decided.

Confused, Duo could only stand and frown as Gregory fully released him and sat back down.

"It has been three hundred years since a crown prince fought in the Theran army," Gregory started. "Three hundred years ago a crown prince was killed in battle and the line of inheritance was broken for the first time since the first king of Thera passed the crown to his youngest son."

Duo started to speak, but Gregory held up a hand.

"For the last fifteen years I have prayed for your safe return. Yet now that I have you back, safe and… imprisoned, you want to put yourself in harm's way. I know what happened in South Pass."

"I'm sure Solo –"

"Carl told me his own version of the events. Recent events and events from nearly a year ago."

Duo swallowed hard at the look in Gregory's eyes.

"My father loved his crown and hated his kingdom. He loved the wealth and power that came with his birthright, yet he had no respect or love for the people who sweated and bled for him. The people of Thera were happy to see his rule end, but his enemies were not. Under my father Thera grew weak and our allies started to drift. When I came to the throne I knew that I had to preserve the future of Thera. I had to protect our people, and my family. I decided that raising the heirs of all the kingdoms of Hellas together, here, would prevent the conflicts of my childhood and strengthen Thera and the bonds between our allies." Gregory sighed. "That plan cost many lives, the fall of a kingdom, and the abduction of my son. I know that nearly everyone questions my decision to go down that path – they question many other decisions I have made. But never _once_ have I questioned it myself. I am the king of Thera and the decisions I make _must_ be for the best of all. I cannot put my doubts or my personal feelings into my duties. I must, at all times, be above my needs and desires. I must be willing to die for my people – and I must be willing to sacrifice some of my people for the good of all."

Gregory's eyes narrowed.

"You are like me, Duo. You know that your decisions can have negative consequences and you know that sacrifices must be made and you have the strength to put aside your doubts and fight for what needs to happen."

"But," Gregory added after a pause. "You are twenty years old. You have much to learn and more to experience. Still, I do not want you to learn the lessons that isolation and anger have to teach. If you want Heero Yuy back on your security detail then you shall him."

Duo waited for the warnings to avoid any romantic entanglements.

"You aren't the first crown prince to become involved with the Captain of his guard and I doubt you will be the last," Gregory mused. "My only concern is the specter of Trowa Barton. He and Heero were inseparable, but now that Trowa is lost to us…"

"Heero remains loyal to Thera," Duo pointed out.

Gregory nodded in agreement.

"And loyal to you," he added. "Very well. As for the Hellas games…I competed in them, there is no reason for my son not to as well."

While part of Duo felt triumphant about getting his way, another part of him knew that Gregory's warning about Trowa was a fair one.

Which meant that Duo had to find a way to get him back.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**Chapter 15: Chapter 15**

* * *

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, adventure, sex, AU, fantasy, angst again.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is sticking with this! I appreciate your patience with me for not updating this as frequently as some of my other work. I also apologize. I'm trying to keep this style as similar to what I started with two years ago but… my writing has changed.

_Lost Dreams_

Chapter 15

Trowa barely remembered his parents. Catharine did - she had told him stories for years about their mother and father. But Trowa did have one very clear memory of his father, of the first time he had held a bow and his father's strong, long fingers had held his arm steady. He remembered his rich voice, pitched low as he issued instructions and his proud chuckle when Trowa successfully shot an arrow into the target.

His father had been proud of him, once, but that had been a lifetime ago - a _kingdom_ ago.

Trowa wondered if his father was with the gods, if he was looking down on his son, if he hated him for what he had become.

As Trowa surveyed the bloody battlefield before him, he couldn't help but hate himself.

His plan to infiltrate the Mysian hierarchy and destroy it from within seemed to have accomplished nothing. Nothing except his descent into their murderous ranks.

Over the past two months he had fought in battle after battle, riding in on Heavyarms and wearing that damned red jacket and those immaculate white breeches and he had covered them in blood every single time.

He hadn't won any battle single handedly - but he had been efficient, ruthless, and vital to each of the victories. He had worked hard to prove to Une, Treize and Zechs just how useful he could be for them and he had succeeded too damn well.

When he had first come up with this plan he had known, on an intellectual level, that he would have to kill the very people that _Duo_ wanted to protect, but he had thought he could mitigate things, somehow.

Perhaps he had - he had prevented the men under his command from raping anyone and he ensured that they did a piss poor job of salting the fields of any free-worker lands they raided.

But it certainly wasn't enough.

Now, as a spring breeze rustled the still, lifeless corpses, Trowa had to question his plan, his entire strategy and his ability to carry it out.

His men were busy looting the bodies of the Theran dead and Trowa forced himself to turn away from them, to blind his eyes to the reality of the death he had caused.

He turned his horse - no commander needed to supervise this sort of thing - and started back towards the camp.

As he guided Heavyarms through the bodies he tried not to look at their faces. He had seen too many military parades in Antioch, had watched Heero and Solo and Gregory inspect too many new recruit classes for him to look at them. The chance that he might recognize one of them was simply too great.

The soldiers weren't the only scavengers on the field. Several grubby urchins were making quick work of going through pockets, scavenging food and valuables. These children had been following the army for weeks now, sorting through their rubbish, the bold ones went so far as to sneak into tents and try to steal from the Mysian soldiers. Several of the children had already been apprehended and hanged for their theft.

One boy paused in his work and looked up at Trowa. His skin was pale and dirty, his clothes mere rags and his hair so dark and matted that the color was indiscernible. But his eyes…

His eyes were the bright, violet-blue of Duo's and they looked at him with such anger, such hate.

Trowa found himself unable to turn away from that judgemental gaze.

"Kill him."

Zechs approached, riding his solid white charger, his retinue of guards trailing behind on foot.

For a moment, Trowa assumed Zechs was ordering _his_ death, but, too slow, he realized Zechs was commanding the soldiers to kill the child.

He watched as the child glared at the approaching soldiers, not even bothering to run. He watched as the life bled out of his frail body and his eyes dimmed and the soldier who had murdered him wiped his dagger off on the child's filthy clothes.

Zechs was looking at him, his lips halfway between a sneer and a smirk, and Trowa returned his stare.

"The Therans almost flanked us," Trowa said, desperate to say something and unable to say what he needed to.

Zechs arched an eyebrow but nodded.

"Indeed. I've already addressed the… failures of my generals." Zechs lazily flicked dirt from his pristine uniform. "And it appears there is room to promote you further."

Trowa forced himself to swallow, to breathe and to nod in gratitude.

"Excellent. Hopefully it's a promotion that won't have me drowning in poorly trained soldiers?" He put enough disdain in his voice as he dared.

Zechs chuckled.

"Oh. No, I think you will enjoy your new position _very_ much and certainly find it sufficiently challenging. We will discuss it further when we return to Abydos."

With those cryptic words, Zechs turned his horse and rode away.

Leaving Trowa alone with the dead men he would never be able to save.

He was in the middle of undressing when Une entered his quarters, unannounced, and demanded that he see Treize at once.

Trowa glared at her. He had only just managed to take off his uniform jacket and the stained undershirt. He still wore his white breeches, spattered with blood and dirt, and those damned high boots that made it so hard to move stealthily.

He moved to find a clean shirt, at least, but Une stopped him.

"Don't bother."

 _Not_ what Trowa wanted to hear, but he followed her from his room and made the long walk down the golden palace corridors, half naked, reeking of blood and sweat and stale fear, to Treize's quarters.

Une opened the door and gestured him inside before closing the door behind him.

Another bad sign - to his knowledge Une lived her life practically attached to Treize at the hip. He had heard rumors that she even stood by to watch and evaluate as he pleasured himself with the numerous men who decorated his bed. The only time Une didn't stay to watch, it was said, was when -

"Ah good, you're finally here," Zechs said.

He and Treize were naked, reclining on the large bed in the center of the room, and it was clear that Trowa had interrupted the start of their activities.

Trowa inclined his head towards Zechs.

"You wished to see me?" He directed his words to Treize.

"Hm. Yes." Treize gestured with his hand and Zechs knelt between his legs and began to lavish attention on his cock.

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"Zechs tells me you saved the today."

Trowa shrugged one shoulder.

"Hardly. I managed to recover the positioning we lost due to the poor decision making of others. I'm sure Zechs would have managed to win the battle in any case."

"Of course he would," Treize purred, one hand stroking the blond head in his lap.

"Was that all?" Trowa didn't bother to keep the irritation out of his voice. Treize, Zechs and Une knew he cared little for them personally - there was no point in pretending otherwise.

"No. There was more. But first," Treize threw his head back and groaned, the sound low and guttural. "But first," he continued after a moment, "Zechs and I have plans."

"Shall I return later?" Trowa started to go.

"No," this came from Zechs, who released Treize and turned to Trowa with hungry eyes. "Of course not. Join us."

He should have known - he had known, as soon as Une came for him - that this was what would happen.

Trowa inclined his head.

"No. Thank you for the offer."

Treize arched an eyebrow but Zechs stood, a pout on his thin lips, and approached Trowa.

"You are almost as irritating as you are amusing," Zechs mused, circling around Trowa, close enough that his hair, his cock, brushed against him.

Trowa kept his gaze fixed, locked onto to Treize's amused eyes.

"I've said it before - I'm done warming the beds of others."

"Have you taken a vow of celibacy then?" Zechs asked, laughter in his voice. He reached out to the fly of Trowa's breeches and Trowa caught his hand.

"No, of course not. But I will no longer crawl into the bed of someone who isn't my equal."

His words could be taken in two ways - either as an insult to Zechs, as Trowa viewed him as far inferior, or a compliment, if Zechs, an implication that Zechs was too good for him.

Both Treize and Zechs laughed.

"Very well. Then you may wait _here_ while Treize and I attend to more important matters."

Trowa released him and Zechs returned to the bed, to Treize, and Trowa looked away, to the light filtering through the windows on one side of the room.

He had never been forced or coerced into bed with someone. He had only ever chosen his partners - he had loved Heero, had felt a deep kinship with Solo and had, at the very least, felt immense lust with his other partners. Even his first time, with a man several years older.

It had been on a day not unlike this one, bright sunlight above and warm grass beneath them and Bosch, the most celebrated archer in Kos, had laughed at Trowa's inexperience, at his eagerness, and had shown him the pleasure and the joy that could be found in the body of another.

His first time with Heero had been so different. It was on the eve of Heero's departure from Kos, as he prepared to return to Thera, to his future in the army and the Royal Guard and it had been so slow, so reverent it was almost painful, and the look in Heero's eyes as he came, for the first time, in Trowa's embrace was the one thing Trowa wanted to picture in his mind when he died - that look of wonder and fulfillment and _trust._

Trowa had been eighteen when he returned to the Theran court, when he next saw Heero, when he saw Solo for the first time in years, and there had been an ocean of anger and raw pain between him and the man he had grown up with. They had fought - first with words, accusing each other of horrible thoughts and deeds - and then with their fists, breaking furniture and bones and eventually Heero had been there, ready to pull them apart, but by then their anger had faded, had changed and Heero found them kissing, caressing the flesh they had moments ago abused, and he had left them. That first time with Solo had healed so much of the pain, the loss, the betrayal Trowa had carried with him since the fall of Ios, but it had created a barrier between Heero and Trowa, between Heero and Solo, that had taken years to overcome.

He wondered what it would have been like - his first time with Duo. His first time with Duo and Heero. Heero was the only virgin Trowa had ever been with, and he had been so young and still so inexperienced - he hadn't taken the care that Heero deserved. But now - now he knew that he and Heero would have worshipped Duo, would have suckled every scar, carressed every hard plane of him and he could only imagine what Duo would look like in ecstasy - his hair loose, his mouth open and his eyes empty of his pain, empty of his anger.

It was, Trowa knew, a sight he would never see.

Not when he was this stained, this covered in the blood of innocent people. Heero would understand - he would appreciate the choices Trowa had had before him and accept the need for tactical superiority, but he wouldn't forgive Trowa, not for this. He would never be able to look at Trowa the same way again - would never be able to see past the murder of the people he had sworn to protect.

And Duo.

He remembered the night he and Heero had discovered Duo in the ruins of the temple of the God of Death. Battered, limping, covered in soot with tear stains on his face. His eyes had been so haunted, so defeated.

It wouldn't be like with Solo - rage that turned to lust and their connection renewed. No, Duo would see him and he would _know_ what Trowa had done and he would look at him with those dead eyes.

Finally, Treize and Zechs rose from the bed to clean themselves and Trowa forced himself to return to the present, to shelve the future that would never be.

After all, there was no way he would even live to see Heero and Duo again - not if his plan went accordingly.

"Summer is only three months away," Treize said. "And when the Hellas games begin we will have to halt our campaign for a month. We need to invade Kos."

Trowa didn't bother to hide his surprise.

"How?"

Zechs smirked.

"You're the military genius, at least you say you are - tell us."

Trowa considered it and he knew he couldn't. There was simply no way he could plan the invasion and destruction of the kingdom that had sheltered him after the fall of Ios. He could not to to Sylvia what had been done to him. He could _not_ murder people he had shared bread with, had helped harvest and mend fences and taught to shoot a bow.

Treize and Zechs were staring at him, now dressing in long, open robes, and Trowa realized the trap that had been laid for him.

For months that had likely been planning this - from the first night he sat down with them to dinner - and now, now that he had fought their battles, killed their enemies - killed _his_ allies - they brought him here, to this precipice.

"It can't be done," he finally said.

Treize arched an eyebrow.

"Of course it can be done. Is this it then - your true allegiance? Your -"

Treize stopped Zechs with a single, raised hand.

"Why can't it be done?" Treize asked, his voice deceptively mellow.

"The snow," Trowa said, never before so thankful for the mountains, for the harsh winters and the steep cliffs. "They've begun to melt, but not enough for us to invade without significant casualties."

"The casualties don't matter," Zechs muttered. "Our ranks grow every day - every time we destroy a settlement we add recruits."

Trowa nodded in agreement. He didn't bother to argue that conscripted recruits were no match for men defending their homes. Treize and Zechs didn't seem to understand that sentiment, didn't seem to care that the slave army they had created suffered enormous losses in every engagement.

"They should," he said simply, "because we won't be able to invade Kos and defend from a Mysian flank at the same time."

"Oh?" Treize seemed amused.

"We can't invade Kos before we isolate her from Thera. They are too close, their alliance too strong. If we end up in a protracted engagement with Kos the Therans _will_ come to their aid and our forces will be destroyed. We have to wait. Until after the Hellas games. Wait for the snows to melt and wait for our victories against Thera to grow, wait for our advantage over them. There is the chance we can take Kos without an invasion - if we can demoralize Thera, the entire Continent at the games - then we can end this war."

Treize and Zechs exchanged a long look, some silent communication passing between them.

"Zechs, do you remember Ganymede? That beautiful boy you fell in love with when you were twenty?" Treize said at last.

"Of course." There was a slight frown on Zechs' face, as if he was just as thrown by this non sequitur as Trowa.

"Do you remember how we shared him? How we fucked him every night together for two months?"

Zechs nodded and his gaze drifted to Trowa, that frown still in place.

"And do you remember the night he came to our bed with a knife and tried to kill you?"

Zechs nodded again.

Treize approached Trowa and stood close enough that Trowa could smell roses.

"And do you remember how it felt to fuck his corpse?"

"Not as pleasant as fucking him when he was alive," Zechs muttered. "Too dry - it was no wonder he always wanted us to use more lubricant."

"Yes," Treize agreed. "But when he was dead, we didn't much care what he wanted, did we?"

By the end of spring Trowa had been promoted twice more, until he sat beside Treize at the council meetings. He led the Mysian army when Zechs or Treize were engaged elsewhere and he won battle after battle, even when the odds were in Theran favor.

And every time he returned to his quarters, every time he scrubbed his skin raw to remove the blood, the evidence of his betrayal, it grew harder and harder to remember that look on Heero's face, their first time, when they found eternity together.

But finally, six months after he arrived in Abydos, Relena sent for him, to speak with him, alone.

Finally, his plans could advance.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Chapter 16**

* * *

I've decided to do a difficult thing, and that is to let some of my unfinished WIPs go.

Unfortunately, this is one of them.

This isn't about a "why didn't people review this more?"

This is about my unfortunate tendency to start ideas, to plot them out in my head, and then find myself drawn to a new idea.

I still have this problem but I'm working on it, and I'm trying to only work on fics that I can commit to finishing. So, I've gone back and updated every fic that I am officially abandoning and calling it complete as well as adding in a final chapter - this chapter.

So let me share a few thoughts on where this was headed:

Lost Dreams

Chapter 16

This time of year had always been Heero's least favorite.

It was, he supposed, beautiful, when the heavy winter snows melted and new life colored the mountains and the palace was opened to the citizens of Antioch for spring festivals.

But for years, it had marked the end of long winters spent curled around Trowa under heavy blankets, because as soon as the passes to Kos were open, Trowa left Thera to return to his adoptive kingdom.

This year, of course, Trowa was long gone already. Had been gone for six months, but he had not gone back to Kos. He had gone to Mysia, and by all accounts he had made himself indispensable to the murderers and butchers intent on destroying Hellas.

Solo's military strategy sessions had, over the past months, turned into campaign headquarters. More often than not, Solo, his generals, Quatre, Carl and Duo would meet and then Solo and the army would ride off to battle while Duo stayed behind, impatient and angry and forced to attend a sort of accelerated tutoring program that Gregory had devised so that Duo could learn what, exactly, was expected of him as the future king of Thera.

Heero stayed behind as well, to watch over the prince, a duty he both relished and despised.

Something had happened, between Gregory and Duo on the prince's twentieth birthday, and the very next morning Duo had barged into Heero's quarters to demand that he wake up and spar with him, casually tossing over his shoulder as he left that Heero should probably revise the guard schedules because Duo was allowed to 'have him' again. It hadn't made much sense to Heero's sleep fogged brain, but Gregory had confirmed it when Heero asked him an hour later - Heero's main duty, once again, was to safeguard the life of the future king, and Gregory seemed to be under no illusions regarding Duo's intentions towards Heero. Gregory had even hinted at his _own_ past dalliance, with Heero's father years ago. Heero wasn't sure what to make of that - it made him uncomfortable, picturing his father and the king together, and the memory didn't seem to comfort Gregory much either, likely because Heero's father had almost allowed the Theran monarchy to perish.

So Heero relished his ability to actually guard Duo's life just as much as he relished the chance to speak to the prince, to be near him, to try and ease the loneliness, guilt and anger he could still see in Duo's eyes.

He despised it, however, for the fact that Duo still did not want his life guarded. He despised the days when Solo rode out with the armies, the weeks when Duo paced, anxious and irritable, waiting for the return of his brother, the more often than not signal that the Theran forces had been defeated.

In only six weeks the campaigns would be halted for the Hellas games, and both Solo and the Mysians seemed intent on fighting desperately until the last minute, before the truce would be enforced. And _Duo_ seemed intent on driving Heero mad.

The prince had gone back to sneaking out of his rooms at night, wandering the archives and stalking the battlements and it was clear that he was furious at being left behind by his brother, at being, once again, unable to control his own fate. But, Heero suspected, there was more to it than that.

Finally, Heero gave up any pretense of allowing Duo to sneak about.

The army had left only that morning to go to Croton, a settlement halfway between Thera and Himera, one of the few remaining neutral kingdoms that shared a border with Thera and Mysia, to provide reinforcements and try to stave off the Mysian encroachment.

Duo had asked to accompany Solo and his brother had replied as he always did - a look of horror swiftly replaced by irritation and a muttered reminder to prepare himself for a future as the king, not as a rebel. Duo and Gregory had exchanged a look, and Duo had seemed on the verge of fighting back, but then Duo had looked at Heero and something in his expression had shifted and he had shrugged, given up the fight, and Heero hadn't seen him once since then.

The guards Heero assigned to him had been unable to find Duo until the evening meal, when _everyone_ found Duo, since he walked into the great hall and took his customary place beside Gregory and completely ignored the scowls of the Royal Guards assembled, all of whom, by this point, had had to suffer through a reproach from Heero for losing sight of Duo.

So, that night, Heero grabbed his sword, his pillow and a blanket and barged unannounced into Duo's room.

Duo and Hellas looked up at his arrival. Duo was in the process of pulling on a pair of breeches and Hellas was valiantly struggling to pull them back off, her sharp teeth snagged on the bottom hem and her rump swaying furiously as she tugged.

Heero arched an eyebrow.

"At least one creature in this palace is capable of keeping track of you," he muttered.

Duo glared at him, picked up the dog, placed her on the bed, and swiftly fastened the breeches before she could attack again.

"You seem to keep up with me just fine," Duo retorted, but then he eyed the bundle in Heero's arms.

"I keep up with you when I'm awake, but since I cannot stay awake for the rest of my life and you _refuse_ to respect your life, I'm sleeping in here and we are going to bed _now_ so take the breeches back off."

Duo stared at him.

Heero hadn't spoken to him like that since Duo's identity had been revealed, and it shocked both of them. But Heero was at the end of his patience - at the end of his reserve of _everything_.

"Heero -"

"Duo. I can't lose you too. This has nothing to do with you being my prince. I cannot lose you too."

The admission was hard for both of them and Duo actually turned away, his shoulders tense and his head bowed.

Heero set down his sword and started to make a pallet for himself by the door.

"Stop."

He turned at the sound of Duo's voice. He realized just how exhausted Duo looked - he looked nearly as bad as Heero felt - with pale violet rings under his eyes and his skin pale, tight with worry.

"Sleep on the bed at least. I won't sneak out if you fall asleep."

Heero trusted him - Duo had yet to go back on his word, though he had seemed to have forgotten his promise, months ago, to stop sneaking away from his guards.

Heero set aside the pillow and blanket and approached the bed. Hellas greeted him by standing up on her back legs and licking his face. Heero allowed it, keeping an eye on Duo as the other man took his breeches off, and absently petting her.

-o-

_Lost Dreams_

Chapter 17

Duo's POV

Hellas games arrival.

The opening match for fencing, Duo removing his shirt.

Meeting Trowa by the river that night.

-o-

_Lost Dreams_

Chapter 18

Heero POV

End of the fencing competition, Zechs defeats Duo and Solo defeats Trowa. Solo and Zechs face off.

The archery competition begins.

The archery competition ends - Duo, Trowa, Ralph and Sylvia are the finalists, with Trowa using his final arrow to shoot Solo. All hell breaks loose.

-o-

_ost Dreams_

Chapter 19

Trowa POV

Taken prisoner by Sylvia and the other Sentinels. Ralph pays a very special visit, revealing that he is a Mysian spy. Implies that he is going to kill the other prince since Trowa has done his job and gotten rid of Solo.

Carl visits him and Trowa manages to escape.

Just in time to see Ralph attempt to Solo and he saves him, but they are both injured in the process.

-o-

_Lost Dreams_

Chapter 20

Heero POV

Duo completely taking charge of everything.

Holding a war council with their allies, still on the grounds of the Hellas games, and the armies are summoned.

Heero alone at Trowa's bedside, wishing for something.

Quatre showing up to apologize, to beg forgiveness, and Trowa waking up to give it to him.

Duo shows up, decked out for battle, and kisses Trowa goodbye before promising to bring Heero back in one piece after they've defeated the Mysians.

-o-

_Lost Dreams_

Chapter 21

Duo's POV.

The epic final battle. Gregory arrives with the army.

Gregory dies in battle, in Duo's arms.

Duo defeats Treize, Heero kills Zechs, and Hilde and Carl are generally awesome.

The return to Antioch.

-o-

_Lost Dreams_

Chapter Twenty Two

Duo is crowned king.

Heero swears to protect Duo with his life.

Trowa, Heero and Duo are FINALLY together.

The end. Huzzah.


End file.
